


I Got You, Babe

by NuclearMcDuck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Disordered Eating, Hard Kylux, M/M, Mpreg, Unhealthy Relationships, bad dictators being bad, tit fucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-04-07 04:46:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 81,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14073192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearMcDuck/pseuds/NuclearMcDuck
Summary: "What in the seven hells is HAPPENING TO ME?" He screamed, hands tearing at his hair and nails digging into his scalp. He was distantly aware that he was hyperventilating, but it was hard to think beyond the blind panic. He'd never been so afraid in all his life.He was startled by the door suddenly opening, allowing a stout medical droid in. It trundled over to him, careful to avoid the fluid rapidly pooling around him. He dared not moved from his crouch over the bowl of the fresher unit."How may I assist you today, General?" It intoned.Hux wanted to scream at it,look at me! Do you think I know what's going on?! Just fix me, before I pfaaskingdie!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bah! This is my first fic to Ao3! Please comment and let me know what you think
> 
> This happened cause I got the urge to write an "I didn't know I was pregnant" fic, and now... Here we are.

It was rare for him to engage in illicit trysts, now that his career progression no longer required it. However, it had proven to be a useful tool for subduing the otherwise uncontrollable leader of the Knights of Ren. Even as his jaw protested being pressed into the bulkhead by the mammoth hand against the back of his head, he managed to thrust his hips weakly back against Ren. It didn’t usually take long; Hux suspected that the Supreme Leader’s apprentice had been largely – possibly even totally – inexperienced prior to his time with Hux.

“So tight,” he heard, directly in his ear, as Ren quickened his pace.

Despite the trashiness of the phrase rivalling that of the lowest-budget pornographic holo, Hux felt himself glow with the praise. He did enjoy being appreciated by powerful men.

The hand not on the back of Hux’s neck suddenly went to his right knee, lifting up the leg to press against the wall as Ren continued his relentless pace, and Hux couldn’t stop the moan if he’d wanted to; this was a much better angle.

“Oh,” he breathed, almost not expecting today’s encounter to be decent. “Oh, oh, _oh_ …” each thrust was now punctuated by Hux’s breathless cries.

He was pleasantly surprised when he came, cock spurting against the wall, and stood patiently while Ren finished messily behind him. Well, inside him.

Ren fell forwards, leaning onto Hux’s back for support, dropping the leg he’d held up and letting the General regain his footing.

They stayed like that for a few moments, catching their breaths, before Ren tucked himself away, and the General retrieved his pants from the floor.

Without a word, they left the meeting room, looking for all the world as though nothing untoward had happened.

Just another day aboard the Finalizer.

 

 

 

 

Several weeks later, Hux surveyed the bridge, hands clasped firmly behind his back beneath his greatcoat. Nothing could dull his buoyant mood; not Peavey’s prying glances, not the soreness of his ankles as he stood for his twelfth consecutive hour on the bridge, not the light nausea that prevented him from finishing his caf (presumably from the stimulants to remain alert for his shift). Starkiller was nearly complete, and his moment to shine drew ever nearer. He’d finished writing his speech for the occasion, and had taken to rehearsing it in his head during lulls in activity. He’d run through it several times this shift, and his spirits were high. If this weapon wasn’t enough to convince the Supreme Leader that Hux was deserving of the rank of Grand Marshall, then nothing ever would.

He couldn’t resist glancing at the back of Peavey’s head as he thought of himself as the Grand Marshall. The man – along with the rest of the old Imperial stock – despised that a young upstart such as himself could outrank them. Self-important old fools, how would they feel to see him rise ever higher?

His pleasant musings were interrupted by a harsh tugging in his abdomen, a sharp pain shooting through him. Nausea, again.

His shift had finished two hours ago. Perhaps it would be best to retire now.

“Peavey, you have the bridge,” Hux announced, before sweeping out of the room. He hadn’t missed Peavey’s relieved sigh. The man hated to have his brief moments of control overridden by Hux, which seemed all the more reason to remain on the bridge, as far as the General was concerned.

He managed to keep his stride even as he strode through the halls of his ship, intent on returning to his quarters to relieve himself in the privacy of his refresher. To use a public refresher would surely risk exposing whatever weakness had taken over him. Perhaps he ought to reduce his stim usage for a few cycles, or have a blood test to determine if he was infected with something. Time spent on the frozen tundras of Starkiller did open one to the possibility of infection, he supposed.

He was most of the way to his quarters, when his least-favourite force user materialised in front of him. He attempted to step around the hulking brute, but found that the knight simply moved to block his path. Sighing heavily through his nose as his gut continued to stir uncomfortably, he fought to retain his rigid, professional posture.

“Something I can help you with this evening, Ren?” He asked casually, words dripping with disinterest.

The helmet stared back at him impassively for a moment, and Hux wondered if he was supposed to be intimidated.

“Perhaps,” the knight drawled, vocoder crackling harshly. He allowed his helmet to drop down, eyeline roving over Hux’s frame, coming back up slowly to meet the General’s eyes once more.

Hux sneered, glancing around the hall to ensure that they were alone. “Not in public, you animal,” Hux hissed. “If you’re going to ask something of a personal nature, for pity’s sake, comm. me a private location,” It didn’t seem like much to ask, just a little discretion.

Ren seemed to ignore him, instead escalating the situation by taking a step closer, into Hux’s personal space.

Hux refused to defer by stepping back, holding his ground as the mask stopped inches from his face. The annoying crackle of the vocoder as Ren breathed heavily was more obnoxious from this distance.

“So,” Ren continued, unperturbed by Hux’s disdain for his existence. “Your quarters, or mine?”

Hux allowed his eyes to roll, scoffing, “Ren, I’m not in the mood.”

The knight’s helm tipped to the side a little. “I could change that-“

“No,” he said sharply, a hand coming to rest on his stomach, where the nausea was escalating rapidly.

“Another time,” he said, as he pushed past, deliberately knocking Ren on the shoulder as he went (even though it was like running into a freighter).

He made it to his refresher just in time, spewing into the sink without a trace of dignity. He retched several times, bringing up mostly bile, and was quick to wash his mouth and order a droid to ensure his refresher was spotless once more.

With that unpleasantness dealt with, he sat at his desk with a cup of tea and a ration bar, ready to go over the reports from their outposts, trade deals, troop programs, and, of course, Starkiller. As his eyes began to dry and his reading noticeably slowed on the fifth report, he briefly considered taking a stim, but a glance at his refresher reminded him of his decision to go easy on himself.

All was well. He could afford to push through the fatigue tonight, at least. When he did finally prepare himself for bed, he was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t even a week later that he lived up to his promise of “another time”.

He bounced on Ren’s lap, thighs straining as he ground down, riding high on the feeling of having Ren beneath him - not to mention the feeling of riding his sizable member.

Ren wasn’t passive, either, hips pushing up from below with enough force to have him seeing stars.

“Pfaask, Ren,” Hux breathed, hands running through his own hair messily, eyes half-lidded as he focused on the wondrous feeling of being filled.

It had always been rare, allowing anyone to take him like this. It was something of a taboo amongst the First Order, to be frank, and he’d never failed to notice how those who chose to be the recipient partner always seemed to bare the harshest brunt of whatever fallout befell couples engaged in such behaviour. That said, the sensation was so wonderful, he was surprised it was as rare as it was. How could anyone deny themselves this?

“You’re so wet,” Kylo said, reverently, giving a few extra hard thrusts that squelched noisily between them. “How do you do it? Always so ready for me…”

Hux wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he did love Kylo’s habit of talking the closer he got to completion. His words were almost always singing his praises, some new thing that he loved about Hux’s body, and he didn’t think he’d ever tire of it.

“Do you keep yourself ready for me at all times? Do you walk around, slick, hoping I’ll take notice of you? Drag you aside and use you?” Kylo’s thrusts were becoming faster, more erratic, and his breathing was ragged. Getting very close, then.

Hux nodded, wordlessly agreeing. He’d always produced a little slick inside himself, a natural part of his body, but he’d never before imagined that Kylo thought about how he stood on the bridge, a little wet between his cheeks.

“Stars,” Ren ground out, teeth clenching, hands tight on Hux’s hips as he pistoned into Hux’s hole ruthlessly.

Hux arched and cried out as he came, messily, spurting over Ren and clenching hard. Ren wasn’t far behind him, pushing all the way in and grinding hard as he released inside him.

“It’s amazing how you come without me even touching you,” Ren said once his breathing had calmed down a little, his enormous hands running up and down the General’s sides gently.

Hux, whose legs were now jelly, was bent over Ren, propping himself up with his elbows on either side of Ren’s head.

“What do you mean?” He asked, still struggling to regain his breath. How he had gone so long without this was beyond him. He should be doing this every night, possibly the mornings, too.

Ren made a vague gesture to Hux’s manhood, lying limp between them. “I never touch you when I’m inside you, but you always come first.” The knight looked at him as though he were trying to figure out some sort of puzzle.

“And?” Hux asked, letting his forehead rest against Ren’s, revelling in the feeling of Ren’s soft length inside him.

“And… That’s not how it usually happens?” Ren said slowly, though Hux couldn’t tell if he was asking a question or not.

“Are you saying that from experience?” Hux said archly, knowing that Ren was sorely lacking in experience.

Ren turned his head to the side, leaving Hux’s face buried in his hair. His lovely, soft, lightly-scented hair. The knight whispered something, not quite loud enough for Hux to catch, even though his face was centimetres from the man’s mouth.

“We’ve been through this, Kylo,” Hux sighed. “Use your words.”

“It’s not like that in the holos,” the knight muttered.

Hux stopped himself from laughing, but only just.

“And how is it in the holos you watch?” He asked playfully, loving having the upper hand here. Ren might have the physical strength and his mystical pfaasking powers, but his inexperience in this arena left him at Hux’s mercy. The General decided that he quite liked the look of the light blush that bloomed on Ren’s cheeks as he debated his answer.

“They need to use more lubricant, and the…” he seemed to struggle for a moment, before saying, “bottom usually has to… You know, touch himself to come.”

Hux shrugged lightly, mood elevated by Ren’s bashful concern. He didn’t even object to being referred to as a “bottom”, not when he so clearly held Ren’s leash in the bedroom (figuratively speaking, of course).

“I just so happen to very much enjoy being penetrated,” Hux purred, grinding his hips against Ren’s for emphasis.

Ren moaned, prick perking up from inside him.

“And I’m very fortunate to have someone who enjoys penetrating me, just,” he ground his hips in a circle, “as,” again, “much,” and again.

It was enough to bring the blood rushing back to Ren’s cock, and Hux pressed a light kiss to Ren’s forehead before he sat up properly, clenching around his prize. He would make Ren forget those holos even existed.

 

 

 

 

 

The symptoms of stim withdrawal were worse than he was expecting. As he stood, looking over the bridge, he had to fight the urge to return to the refresher. Whereas on a normal day, he might only need to use the refresher twice per ten hour shift, in recent days, all fluid seemed to run through him at an alarming rate.

More concerning was the noticeable soreness in his chest, though it was on both sides, so less likely to be to do with his heart. Nonetheless, heart problems were a very common side effect of chronic stim usage.

And less concerning, though particularly frustrating, was the general soreness. His lower back, in particular, seemed to have taken to irritating him, especially during and after his long periods of standing on the bridge. He refused to give in to the urge to sit in front of his officers.

All in all, even as Starkiller’s completion drew nearer which each passing cycle, his small frustrations kept adding up to darken his mood considerably.

“Your caf, General,” Mitaka said lightly, handing him his insulated cup.

Hux took it wordlessly, taking a tentative sip. His nausea came and went, and it wouldn’t do to be ill in front of the crew.

Then, of course, there was the other annoyance he had to deal with. It came in the form of the bridge door whooshing open behind him, a dark presence filling the space.

“General.”

Hux delayed by taking a long sip of the hot caf, before turning his head over his shoulder to reply, “Ren.”

“Your shift finished an hour ago,” the petulant child whined, and Hux glanced at Peavey, who’d straightened in his chair.

“And what concern is that of yours?” Hux huffed, gaze turning back to the viewport, away from Ren.

The knight shifted his weight from foot to foot as he said, “I require an audience with you.”

Hux knew what this was about. “You have one, spit it out.”

Perhaps this was a daring game – Hux had more to lose if their affair came to light, would lose a greater portion of his reputation. But it seemed worth the gamble to make Ren squirm.

“It’s a delicate matter,” Ren said simply, not rising to the bait.

 _I’ll bet it is,_ Hux thought derisively. Making a show of sighing, he flicked a hand towards Peavey. “You have the bridge, Captain.”

He tried to ignore Peavey’s rapturous joy as the man stood to take his post. Hux turned and followed the knight out of the room, falling into step beside him in the hall.

“Was that really necessary?” Hux demanded, shooting a piercing glare at Ren.

“I could have taken you on the bridge,” Ren replied dryly.

“I would have cut off your dick,” Hux hissed furiously, glancing around to ensure that they were alone in the hall. No need to fuel the rumour mill, if he could help it.

“Well, let us be glad that it didn’t come to that,” And Ren definitely sounded a little smug.

They went to Ren’s quarters, given that the General liked to keep his space as his own. Ren might call him paranoid, but if he wanted to get inside Hux, then he would have to accept that it would be on Hux’s terms.

“You’re impatient today,” Hux said as Ren worked to divest the General of clothing, pulling his greatcoat off with the force as his hands flew to the belt around his narrow waist.

“I’ve got a mission, will be gone for a few cycles,” Ren said, by way of explanation. “Need one for the road.”

Hux stilled Ren’s hands by running his own over the knight’s chest, rubbing firmly as though to massage him. “Well, perhaps you ought to make this memorable, then. I’m not in the business of doing things by half measures.”

Ren seemed to take the advice in stride, letting the General’s belt fall to the wayside, but then continuing his task with more finesse. His hands, still gloved, ran up under the General’s tunic, the light touch against his skin warming Hux, his gut clenching pleasantly.

“ _That’s_ more like it,” Hux purred, letting his own hands wander, removing Ren’s belt to make them even.

As their hands worked to remove each other’s uniforms, Hux opted to lean forward to kiss Ren on the mouth. A few chaste pecks landed before Ren’s mouth met his, tongue darting between Hux’s lips eagerly. One thing that had to be said about bedding the Supreme Leader’s apprentice was that he certainly felt desired and appreciated.

Reluctantly, Hux broke the kiss to assist in removing his jodhpurs, then leaned down to unzip his knee-high boots as well –

“Wait, leave those on,” Ren sputtered, and Hux couldn’t resist the amused smirk.

“Really, Ren?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Ren breathed, stepping right up into Hux’s space and mouthing at his neck.

Hux tilted his head to the side to let Ren have his fun, and he was quite pleased when the knight’s mouth found his ear, nipping lightly and sending a shiver down his spine to settle between his legs.

They were both quite nude now, sans Hux’s boots, and Ren’s hands were digging into his hips, pulling them flush against each other. Hux’s hardening length met Ren’s rock solid one, and he playfully rolled his hips to increase the contact.

Ren moaned in response, still mouthing Hux’s ear. “I want you on your back,” Ren spoke into his ear in between kisses.

Hux obliged, stepping backwards to let his knees hit the bed, and he fell carelessly backwards atop it. Ren followed him down, hands running up and down his sides as their mouths found one another again. Ren set to work preparing him, getting him open and wet with lubricant, as Hux let his mind wander.

It had been three, perhaps four, months since they’d started this little arrangement, beginning with Ren snatching an errant thought from Hux’s mind about the knight’s rather spectacular body. The virginal man-child had been utterly enamoured by the thought, and had enthusiastically sent Hux mental images of exactly what he might like to do with his spectacular body. From there, it had only escalated. But Hux was aware that it had not changed their public face at all, and he would have ended their liaison if it seemed anyone were catching on. Ren, he suspected, sensed this, and was careful not to let their hostile façade slip. Which wasn’t hard, given that most of the time it wasn’t a façade at all; they were still bitter rivals, competing for the Supreme Leader’s attention and approval, looking to satisfy their own aims at the expense of the other. This simply added an extra thrill to it all, as well as giving him an advantage over Ren that the knight was all too willing to let him exploit.

He was brought back into the moment by a talented finger finding a rather lovely spot inside of him.

“Unh – _there_ , that’s the spot,” he cooed encouragingly, rolling his hips onto Ren’s fingers. Truthfully, it stung a little, but that was to be expected, given the spotting he’d been experiencing in the refresher; a symptom of stress, his body rebelling. It wasn’t enough to dull the pleasure, the lubricant easing the passage considerably.

Ren’s face had been buried in his neck up until that point, kissing and suckling, but he leaned up on one elbow to look Hux in the face as his fingers honed in on that bundle inside the General. “This spot?” he asked innocently, as his fingers did things that were anything but innocent.

“Mmhmm,” Hux moaned, back arching a little, and only partly to show off to Ren.

Ren’s eyes fell down to where his hand worked between Hux’s legs, a smug grin on his features. His grin faded, however, as he drew his fingers out of Hux, bringing them up to inspect them.

Hux huffed at the loss, glaring indignantly up at the knight. “Unless you’re about to penetrate me, I’d prefer if you didn’t stop. I was rather enjoying it.”

But Ren has still looking at his hand, which he waved in front of Hux’s face. Hux could see a little red staining Ren’s fingers. Ugh, how embarrassing.

“Is there a problem?” Hux said nonchalantly.

“Yes?” Ren said, uncertain. “You’re bleeding?”

“I can see that,” Hux sniffed, rolling his hips against Kylo in the hopes of returning to their previous activities. “Don’t worry about it.”

Kylo looked confused. “It doesn’t hurt? You didn’t say anything.”

“It wasn’t worth mentioning; it’s just a small medical issue, nothing that should stop us tonight,” Hux said dismissively. “Besides, I would’ve imagined that you’d _enjoy_ causing me pain?”

It was meant as a joke (well, _half_ -serious), but Kylo seemed taken aback, his big brown doe-eyes widening. “So it _does_ hurt?”

Hux sighed, erection flagging along with his patience. “Do you want to do this, or _not_?”

Kylo shifted atop him, the picture of awkwardness. He mumbled something unintelligible, not quite meeting Hux’s gaze.

“What was that?” Hux snapped, impatient. “Be an adult, Ren, look me in the eye and tell me what you want.”

Honestly, Kylo was such a hopeless virgin. “I can’t… If you don’t even like it, I don’t think I can… _Finish_ ,” he muttered, seeming ashamed of the admission.

“Oh, for the _love_ of – Ren, I _was_ enjoying it! It’s just –,“ dare he admit it? This embarrassing and extremely personal problem? “I have-,“ Seven _hells_ , he wanted a decent fucking tonight. Honesty, perhaps, would achieve that goal the fastest – or repulse Ren? “I have haemorrhoids.” He blurted, before he could finish the thought.

It took a moment for the words to register, it seemed, as Kylo looked down at dumbly. Then the brute dared to laugh.

Hux knew he was blushing furiously, as he could feel the heat suffuse his face, neck, shoulders and chest. His skin must be matching his hair. Gods, what an embarrassing –

“Shut up!” Hux sneered, pushing against Ren’s chest, sitting himself upright. Kylo allowed himself to be pushed back, coming to sit atop Hux’s hips, still laughing. “Ren!”

“ _Haemorrhoids_? Really?” The man was giggling. Hux was livid.

“Get out!” He hissed, shoving the knight in his stupid, broad chest. It was only after he said it that he recalled that they were in Kylo’s quarters, but the point he was trying to make was clear.

Kylo didn’t budge, even though Hux was quite vigorously trying to dismount him. The knight was planted rather firmly atop his hips, his enormous weight too great to be shifted by a waif like Hux.This, of course, incensed the General further.

“How did you get haemorrhoids?” Kylo breathed, laughter finally easing, clearly enjoying seeing such an embarrassing weakness in his rival.

What had _POSSESSED_ him to reveal such a _personal_ thing - ? “The _stress_ of babysitting _you_ ,” Hux hissed in response. How was he supposed to know why someone developed the issue? Stress seemed as likely a cause as any. It had only been a little blood upon relieving himself, only the slightest discomfort, no cause for alarm, according to the medical droid who’d seen to him.

And yet, here was Kylo Ren, laughing at the blood on his fingers. Ren couldn’t seem to stop smiling. Hux was ready to kill him.

 _This can’t be known beyond this room,_ Hux thought, desperately. “If you tell a soul about this, I will never let you touch me again,” Hux hissed.

That, at least, wiped the stupid smile off the idiot’s face. Kylo stiffened, bringing his hands up in a placating gesture. “Now, hold on,” he started, but Hux was having none of it.

“Get off of me,” he said firmly, crossing his arms over his thin chest, skin still glowing red in equal parts humiliation and rage.

“Now, now, General,” Ren cooed, in a way that he, perhaps, thought endearing. “How about we-“

“How about _nothing_ , Ren,” Hux tried again, fruitlessly, to wriggle out from under Ren. “I’m done. And, seeing as how you can’t finish unless I enjoy it, then you are, too.”

“Would it help if I said I was sorry?” And Ren’s face twisted into a reasonably convincing facsimile of remorse, his big, dewy eyes boring into Hux’s cold, narrow ones.

“Perhaps I will consider continuing our arrangement if you can convince me that you’re truly apologetic,” Hux was already forming a plan to force Ren to pay him back in some way. Perhaps acquiring for him an exotic tea, or a bitter, dark chocolate. It seemed the sort of thing he could convince a hopeless romantic like Ren to do for him. “But for now, I would like to go back to my own quarters.”

Kylo reluctantly shifted off of him, sliding to lay beside Hux, but the General was on his feet the moment that he could slip away.

He dressed quickly as Ren lay beneath atop the sheet and sulked, erection poking proudly at the ceiling.

That ought to teach the beast some manners, Hux thought viciously.

“I’m quite serious, Ren. One word of this to anyone, and you won’t see me outside of a professional setting until all the stars in the universe burn out.” He finished putting on his gloves, placed his hat gingerly atop his (ever so slightly mussed) hair, and was out the door.

His face was still flushed, cheeks burning, as he marched back to his quarters. Ren would have to go and look for that damn map without his ‘one for the road’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the authors who have introduced me to the idea of Xeno!Hux through his mother's side. As far as I'm concerned, that's canon now.


	2. Happy Birthday!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We breeze through the movies here.

By the time Starkiller was ready to fire - finally able to unleash retribution against the Republic, the culmination of his life’s work and the beginning of a new era for the First Order - his body had largely returned to normal. It only took four fething months, he thought bitterly. The only continuing annoyance was the haemorrhoids, which appeared to be worsening (though that may have been a symptom of him allowing Kylo Ren back into his personal affairs). Combined with a little lower back pain, his long shifts on the bridge had been a little irritating, but otherwise he could eat ration bars and drink caf without triggering any nausea. This had actually resulted in him gaining a few extra pounds, about a pound a week at one point, and his belt was beginning to get a little tighter. He wasn’t round, by any means, but his belly did poke out a little more in a way it never used to. As long as his severe silhouette remained intimidating and proud, he had no problem with it – he’d always been something of a waif, much to his chagrin.

He attributed the changes to his stim withdrawal and his body acclimating to a more regular sleep cycle, and he was glad to note that he was only sleeping an extra half an hour each night to compensate without them.

Though he was considering throwing caution to the wind and re-starting his stim habits, given the extra hours he had to put in to ensure that everything on Starkiller base was running smoothly. His moment of glory would not be doused by any tomfoolery – he had worked too hard to get to this point, he wasn’t about to trip on the finish line.

He steeped his tea, an exotic blend courtesy of his repentant knight, as he settled into his desk to go over the reports from Starkiller. According to all the reports he’d gathered so far, the weapon was ready and waiting; the only thing left to do was to actually test it.

His stomach grumbled, loudly. His appetite had returned with gusto in the past few months, and he ordered a meal – a real one, not a ration bar – to be sent to his quarters.

When the bowl of venison stew was delivered by a service droid, he happily dug in, focus never really leaving the reports on his datapad. Nothing in the reports required significant action on his part. A few orders for minor parts in various areas of the base, and he was finished. The clockwork of the Order was ticking along with great efficiency.

It wasn’t often that he could stop and relish his achievements, but tonight he was in a mood to celebrate. His dinner and reports finished, he considered what he ought to do. He was off-shift, had no more reports from Starkiller to peruse, and had about eight hours until his next shift. He never slept more than seven hours, so he had a single hour with which to do what he pleased.

He briefly considered contacting Ren for evening entertainment, before remembering he was off on some dreadful desert planet, tracking down some tenuous lead on his quest to find the elusive map to Luke-bloody-Skywalker. Hux couldn’t quite grasp the significance of Luke Skywalker to the First Order, but he wasn’t one to question the Supreme Leader’s priorities when there was no benefit in it for himself.

The Corellian brandy sitting in his desk drawer, however, wasn’t away on some pointless fetch-quest. He poured two fingers into a cut crystal glass, and indulged himself by placing his feet up on the desk. Imagine the look on Brendol’s face if he could see his bastard son, now. He smirked into his glass as he sipped delicately at the bitter, tart drink.

His quiet contentment was interrupted by his gut twisting uncomfortably. That’s what I get for eating a rich meal, he thought, adjusting himself in his seat to better accommodate his digestion.

The discomfort lasted well into his second glass of brandy, and he cursed himself for indulging. He ought to eat proper meals more regularly, or else stick solely to ration bars; the transition from a mostly ration-bar diet to one incorporating real, grown-and-harvested food had proven to be distinctly uncomfortable. He brought his boots back to the floor and leaned forward in his chair to rub at his lower back, where the pain was stemming from.

He felt a bubble of something shift in him, pushing lightly against his hand, and he felt queasy. He definitely needed to acclimate himself to real food again. This felt disgusting.

Giving up on the last finger on brandy in his glass, he went to the refresher to prepare himself for bed. No use in celebrating when his body rebelled against him so.

At least some of his indigestion had to be a result of his understandable anxiety about the completion of Starkiller, so he resolved to celebrate his victory after the successful firing of the weapon.

Perhaps he’d even allow the Stormtroopers a half-day holiday on the base if it fired successfully.

 

 

 

 

 

There was no holiday. Though the weapon fired beautifully, obliterating the Hosnian system in a show of strength unmatched by any creature of any hitherto existing society, his moment of glory was just that; a fleeting moment. He couldn’t believe that everything that he’d worked for lay in tatters.

As he sat beside the cot Kylo Ren lay in, barely conscious and tears pouring down his mutilated face, Hux felt a stabbing sensation in his gut. Fear, it must be. Fear of what the Supreme Leader would do to him, now that his main project, his main utility to the order, was nothing more than debris scattered through space.

He’d always had a failsafe in the past – found some way to be useful, irreplaceable, unable to be shunted aside or disposed of. But that failsafe had largely been his engineering team, primarily his work on Starkiller. He had nothing to offer in its place. Nothing that couldn’t operate perfectly well without him.

His stomach squirmed, lower back clenching painfully. His dread was a physical pain, weighing him down, dragging his immaculate posture into a pathetic hunch, as though cowering would in any way change anything.

He gave himself this moment to mourn – better he do it now, alone (aside from a semi-conscious, incoherent Kylo Ren) than allow his weakness to be seen by anyone aboard the Supremacy.

He only hoped that Snoke could be convinced of his continued utility to the order. He mindlessly stroked Ren’s hair as the man’s babbling increased, thoughts only on the uncertainty of his own future.

 

 

 

 

It was on Crait that he noticed something was terribly wrong with his body. In the seventy-two standard hours since Starkiller had been obliterated by that fething pilot, he hadn’t slept a wink. He had turned straight back to his stim habit, and though his body protested by painfully throbbing every other hour or so, they were almost as effective as when he’d first started taking them as a child – a welcome by-product of his abstention from them for so many months.

He’d needed it. From Snoke’s untimely demise, to Kylo pfaasking Ren becoming the new Supreme Leader, to chasing the Resistance down, there wasn’t a single moment to rest. The increased efficacy of the stims may have saved his neck, it seemed. Even as his eyes sank into his skull and his pallor increased, he managed to keep his mind sharp enough to keep up with the Resistance.

Not sharp enough to stop the destruction of the Supremacy by whatever lunatic remained on that pfaasking resistance ship, but his failure in that battle was seemingly overlooked by his unhinged Supreme Leader. He’d been too caught up in his bloodlust for Skywalker, thus allowing the blasted Resistance to escape while he was distracted, making Hux’s failings seem almost insignificant by comparison. It was one of the few times that Ren’s temper worked in his favour, if not the Order’s.

Though he could have done without being thrown, viciously, into a console. His whole side ached, but the real problem was that the injury seemed to have sent his back into painful spasms that came and went. His whole abdomen would tense up, completely involuntarily, and he could barely hold in a whine as another shook him.

He sat in his chair, stiff and in a great deal of pain, hoping against hope that no one noticed his discomfort. Ren had really done a number on him this time. He risked a glance at the Supreme Leader, and startled when he realised the man was staring directly at him.

“What is it?” He asked harshly, before he could stop himself. Before he remembered his new place.

Ren raised an eyebrow at him, and with a barely perceptible lift of a finger, had Hux gasping for breath.

“What is it, Supreme Leader,” he gasped, by way of correction.

Ren, it seemed, didn’t feel the need to answer, simply relieving his mystical hold on Hux’s neck and leaving him to awkwardly sit through his awful stomach spasm.

It finally passed, leaving him sore and confused. He’d had a spinal injury before, but this felt very different. Gods, he couldn’t wait to dock on the Finalizer and finally return to his quarters, be seen to by a medical droid, be medicated for his pain, down another round of stims and prepare a meeting for what was left of their officers to plan their next step.

Once they docked, Hux was quick to rush to his quarters, pushing past Ren in his haste. His lower body ached fiercely, a pressure building within him as though he were ready to burst. He had to slow down and grasp at the walls twice on the way back to his rooms, his lower back convulsing harshly, the pain spreading across his chest.

He wondered if he were having a heart attack, feeling dizzy and sick, stumbling through the halls.

Miraculously, he made it into his room, collapsing in his refresher as another wave hit him. Was this how it was to end? A heart attack induced by stim overdose? He only had a few minutes reprieve between each burst of pain, and they were now lasting over a minute. With shaking hands, he pulled his datapad from his greatcoat, requesting immediate medical assistance, flagging the request with the highest urgency.

The moment the request was sent, he was leaning over the bowl of the fresher unit, retching loudly. The remnants of his ration bar looked very sad in the bowl, surrounded by stomach acid and bile.

He felt as though something heavy were falling through him, pushing against his gut, pressing inexorably down. He could feel a slickness between his cheeks, more so than the norm, and struggled to pull off his boots and jodhpurs. He carefully felt his hole, and his fingers came away wet and sticky – blood. He was bleeding.

Stars, he was _bleeding_. Perhaps this wasn’t a heart attack after all. Perhaps this was a stim overdose, destroying his digestive system, causing his bowels to bleed.

His chest tightened in panic, which only escalated when he felt a distinct _pop_ inside of him, and suddenly more fluid was dripping out – a bizarre, clear fluid. He stared in utter shock at his thighs as they dripped steadily with it, feeling lost as he watched the pink of his blood mix with the clear liquid pooling around his knees where they were pressed into the tiles.

“What in the _seven hells_ is _HAPPENING_ TO ME?” He screamed, hands tearing at his hair and nails digging into his scalp. He was distantly aware that he was hyperventilating, but it was hard to think beyond the blind panic. He’d never been so afraid in all his life.

He was startled by the door suddenly opening, allowing a stout medical droid in. It trundled over to him, careful to avoid the fluid rapidly pooling around him. He dared not moved from his crouch over the bowl of the fresher unit.

“How may I assist you today, General?” It intoned.

Hux wanted to scream at it – _look at me! Do you think I know what’s going on?! Just fix me, before I pfaasking **die**!_ Instead, he indicated his leaking hole, managing, “I’m in pain and bleeding from the anus, and have been having _severe_ pains for _several hours_ now.”

The droid nodded in acknowledgement as it processed this, and after a moment it extended a thin tool like a tentacle– a long, flexible rod with a light and small fixture on the end.

“This is an endoscope,” the droid explained calmly. “I will look for the issue and determine the root cause. Permission to continue the procedure?”

“Granted,” Hux whined, seized by another convulsion. They were coming so close together now, it seemed like it was never ending. It all seemed to be building, crescendoing into some terrible finale.

He sobbed, openly, tears spilling down his face as the droid inserted the tool into him. The droid was silent as it worked, while Hux panted heavily through the terrible tightness in his abdomen and chest, feeling the pressure against his pelvis building.

“Pfaask,” He hissed, knuckles white as his hands fisted in his hair. “Please, make it stop…”

“Just one moment, General,” The droid admonished, working the endoscope in deeper. “Query: You referred to this orifice as an anus, correct?”

Hux choked on his sobs, struggling to take in air as his panic seemed to close his throat. “Y-yes,” he hiccoughed weakly. _Of course, that’s what it is_.

“It is not,” the droid informed him. He felt the world tilt sideways a little.

“Y-yes it is?” He shook, body wracked with agony and pulsing with dread. “I’ve always- I-“

“It’s a cloaca,” the droid said, dull monotone betraying no emotion. “You are fully dilated. You should try pushing with the next contraction.”

“What?!” But his indignant cry was interrupted by a cry of distress as another wave of pain rolled through him.

“Push, General,” The droid instructed dully. _This was a dream_. It had to be.

He pushed, as though passing a bowel movement. It seemed to bring the pressure inside him lower, he could feel something shifting. He screamed, no longer able to bear the excruciating ache as the weight moved down.

“Rest for a moment, General,” the droid intoned. “Stop pushing, wait for the next contraction.”

It took only a few more contractions for the droid to tonelessly announce, “It’s crowning.”

_This was a nightmare._ It _had_ to be. _Ren_ was doing this to him, torturing him with a made-up scenario in his mind using his blasted magic tricks. Maybe it was _all_ fake. Maybe he’d wake up and Snoke would be alive, and Ren would go back to being a jumped-up excuse for a religious zealot, and –

“AAAAGH-“ he screamed again, barely aware of the droid urging him to push, and he felt his opening splitting, tearing – “I CAN’T, PLEASE-“ he wailed, voice cracking, shoulders heaving.

He grasped the bowl of the refresher to keep himself upright, though he’d been leaning his torso against it for the entirety of the… Labour. Fething _hells_ , he was in _labour_. That couldn’t possibly mean-

“AAAAAAAAGH-“

Another contraction hit, and this time, the baby’s head slipped free, and the droid extended a limb to catch it, hurriedly pulling its shoulders out with a slick pop.

Hux thought he might faint, feeling fluid leaking heavily down his thighs as he shook bodily, choking on each breath. He still hurt, terribly. His body felt open, abused, torn, and he could feel… things leaking out of him, a mixture of fluid and solids. He was quite sure that he’d shat himself.

He was afraid to look over his shoulder, afraid to see what the droid held. It can’t possibly be a- no, it can’t be. He couldn’t hear crying – shouldn’t it be crying?

_No, it’s just a dream. Just a dream_.

The droid was fussing over the sink, he could hear the water running from the faucet. He didn’t look. Couldn’t look.

The contractions continued, and he moaned, trying to ignore the slick feeling of fluids dripping from him.

He heard a wet hiccough, not from him. Certainly not from the droid. It was followed by a high-pitched keen, then a distressed wail. He couldn’t resist peeking over his shoulder from where he’d collapsed bonelessly atop the bowl of the lavatory. He couldn’t see what the droid was doing in the sink.

The droid suddenly turned, presenting him with a squirming, pink, mewling creature. It had a short, ugly tube sticking out from its belly button, the end tied off with a small clamp. It had been rinsed of fluid, and sat miserably in the droid’s embrace, wailing with all the might it could muster in its tiny lungs. And it was tiny – barely two thirds the length of his forearm, and narrow. It’s little arms waved around, eyes scrunched tightly closed as it cried, little legs flailing ineffectively. Hux himself was still covered in fluid – blood, shit, mystery fluid – and had never felt more dirty or defiled in his life.

“Will you take it?” The droid asked, holding the little creature towards him. He shook his head vehemently, unable to form words yet.

“Very well, I will put it in a towel,” and it proceeded to wrap her in a towel pulled from his rack, swaddling the little creature, which continued to wail.

Hux couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The droid put the miserable creature down in the sink, then turned back to him.

“Allow me to clean you and check for injuries,” the droid said, already moving towards him.

He didn’t resist it as it carried him to the sonic and gave him a quick run through, then carried him to the water shower and washed him more thoroughly.

He was in a daze. He didn’t even stop the droid from pushing the endoscope back into him, even though he was so tender and raw. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. There was no way.

“Were you aware that you were not fully human, General?” The droid asked unexpectedly.

That brought Hux’s gaze whipping around to the droid, wet hair flipping across his face and sticking there, adding to the manic look in his eyes. “ _What_ did you say to me?”

“You have non-human anatomy,” the droid clarified. “I could find no such reference in your file. Were you aware that you have non-human ancestry?”

Hux couldn’t answer, but the droid seemed to take his silence as a “no”. It pulled him out of the shower and blew hot air over him from its own vents to dry him. It spoke as it dried him. “I recommend bed-rest for the remainder of the week. You should be tested to determine your species, to assist in determining further healthcare measures for yourself and the infant. I will place an order for Nan-E droid to assist with the care of the infant. I will put in a request for a cleaning crew to deal with the refresher.”

The droid listed its suggestions off in its customary monotone. It only seemed to add to the surreal nature of the whole scene. It continued, “I will inform Lord Ren that you are unavailable for meetings for the foreseeable future, due to-“

“You will do no such thing!” Hux seethed dangerously, taking solace from the familiarity of the rage settling in him. “You will not tell the Supreme Leader about this.”

“You cannot attend the meeting currently in progress,” the droid said, far from cowed by Hux’s outburst.

“Currently- what? What meeting?” It was as though his world was built on sand, and everything was crumbling beneath him.

“Forgive me, General,” the droid said, indicating to the datapad that lay forgotten on the ground, discarded after he’d called for assistance. “You’ve received several messages whilst indisposed. Supreme Leader Ren has assembled all remaining command crew. They are waiting for you to begin.”

Hux pushed away from the droid’s hold, intending to stand, but found that his legs wouldn’t support him. He cried out as he fell, but was caught by the droid’s deft reflexes.

“You must rest,” it insisted. Stars, he could barely think with the infant’s wails permeating the room. Everything was beginning to settle into a terrible reality.

The Resistance had escaped. Snoke had been replaced by Kylo fething Ren. Starkiller lay in ruins. The Supremacy was so many spare parts.

He’d had a _baby_ in his _refresher_ without having a clue that he was… That he’d been – _pregnant_.

… And he hadn’t slept in _cycles_.

“I need to lie down,” he managed, throat dry as though he’d walked a thousand miles on Jakku.

“Of course, General,” the droid said, carrying him to his room and laying him on his bed, on his back with his head resting on his pillow, still nude from the hips down. His tunic did nothing for his modesty, though that was hardly his main concern.

He tried to take a moment to calm himself, focus on his breathing, to figure out what the fething hells he was supposed to do now, when the droid returned, carrying a bundle – no, _the_ bundle. Even swaddled as it was, it still wiggled, cries increasing in strength as it struggled to free itself.

“Hold it,” the droid said, pushing it into his arms. He was too startled to stop the droid rearranging his arms to support the tiny thing’s head. “It’s premature but healthy, five pounds, roughly twenty centimetres in length,” the droid supplied.“Infant appears to be female.”

Hux had no idea what to do with that information. He just stared dumbly at the little creature in his arms, feeling empty.

“She will require a name,” the droid supplied. “I can fetch the paperwork for you. A Nan-E droid should arrive shortly.”

With that, it trundled away. Hux didn’t notice its departure until too late, too wrapped up in staring at the infant.

She had stopped crying, and was looking up at him. Her eyes peeked up at him, a dark brown, looking alarmingly like-

Like _Kylo Ren_.

“Pfaask,” he whispered, and the baby continued to stare at him.

It was at that moment that his door was forced open, the sound of the metal screeching igniting adrenalin in his veins, and he instinctively reached for the blaster in his pocket – but it was in his fething greatcoat, because _of course_ it was –

“General,” Ren said, deep voice carrying a dangerous edge as he strode into the room. “Care to explain-“

He cut himself off to stare at Hux’s dishevelled state. Hux stared back, suddenly hyper aware of his exposed genitalia, mop of wet hair, and the fething baby in his arms. Silence reigned for a beat.

Ren gestured at the scene before him, looking shocked beyond words. “Care to explain _this_?” Was what he managed to say.

Hux could only lift the child a little, pointing its face at Kylo.

“I had a… I had a- a baby,” he said in a thin, reedy voice that he didn’t recognise as his own. Saying it out loud felt… Felt _real_. He shivered.

“This is your…” this wasn’t happening, surely. “This is your daughter.” His throat seemed to catch on the word.

Kylo stared at him impassively for a beat too long, and Hux was sure that he was going to go mad waiting to see what the Supreme Leader would do. He hadn’t a clue. He didn’t know what he would do, should their positions be reversed.

The baby made a gurgling sound, wriggling in Hux’s arms, and that seemed to wake Ren from his trance.

He spun on his heel and left the room.

Hux was left on the bed, unable to process the day. It was too much.

The baby started to cry, but he ignored it, instead staring at the ceiling of his quarters, exhausted beyond words, until he fell asleep to the cries of his infant daughter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux struggles.

He woke slowly. He was exhausted, but it seemed as though he’d been woken by the pain. The pain, which pulsed from between his legs like a beacon, running up and down his legs, the pain in his lower back that burned, the ache in his chest as though even his nipples were tender.

“Nnnngh…” He tried to sit up, but was stopped by a sharp pain between his legs. He needed to move, to get up, go to the command meeting… Fething _hells_ , Ren had _seen_ -

He felt something gushing out of him, and was horrified to see that he’d shat himself. He stared at the mess, absently noting the lumps of congealed blood amongst the mess. _This was a nightmare_.

“General, you’re awake.” His eyes darted with a laser focus to the robotic voice, finding the source to be a four-foot tall Nan-E unit. Its stubby legs were shuffling towards him, hands outstretched and human-adjacent features pinched in alarm.

“Would you allow me to carry you to the refresher?” The droid asked kindly, much more emotive than the cold medical droid. Hux would have preferred the medical droid.

“I –,” He thought of the mess in the refresher from his… from _before_ , and found that he didn’t want to see the mess of blood, gore, vomit, shit and fluid staining the floor. He also very much didn’t want to be sitting in his own fluids, however. “Have the cleaning droids been through?” He asked weakly.

“Yes, sir, your refresher is good as new,” the droid cheerfully informed him.

He nodded, “Then… Take me to the refresher, help me clean,” he ordered.

The droid, it seemed, had brought a wheelchair, and it placed a towel over the seat of it before assisting Hux in sitting up – which still hurt – and assisting him in sitting in the chair. The mess leaking from him dripped down his legs with the change in angle, and he thought he might be sick.

He couldn’t resist glancing at the bed, gagging slightly as he took in the sight of diarrhoea and blood clots staining his once-pristine sheets, choking a little as the smell hit him full-force. A cleaning bot that he hadn’t noticed zoomed from the corner to deal with the sheets as he was wheeled into the refresher.

This room now smelled strongly of solvents, which he was grateful for, though even the smell of solvents seemed to be making him nauseous.

“The… blood, on my bed,” He said, turning his head to look at the droid as it fussed over wetting some small hand towels that had appeared in his refresher. “Is that… Normal?”

He hadn’t survived the attack on Arkanis, the Academy, Brendol, Snoke, countless assassination attempts and battles, just to die from _blood loss_ after _giving birth_.

“Quite normal,” the droid said as it wiped his legs down with the warm towels. They came away brown, and Hux had to look away. “It is called lochia, and you may experience bleeding over the next four to six weeks. Sanitary pads can be provided to assist."

Hux blanched, but the droid continued its cleaning of his legs, lifting him a little to gently wipe between his cheeks. Then it removed his tunic, gently guiding him to lift his arms over his head as it was removed.

“Much better,” the droid said. “Now, I will lift you into the shower.”

It did so quickly, and Hux was powerless to do more than cling to it as it sat him on a tall metal stool that had been placed in his water shower. Hux wasn’t sure if he could stand, and was glad that he didn’t have to try. _Gods_ , he ached.

He let the droid wash him, thoughts drifting to his next move. He was dreadfully behind the pace of events – the command meeting must have taken place, they couldn’t possibly have waited for him under the circumstances. Stars only knew how long he’d been sleeping while the galaxy continued revolving, while the Resistance no doubt regrouped their meagre forces, and his enemies within the Order prepared themselves to take his place.

They’d lost the _Fulminatrix_ , the _Supremacy_ , and that was a major blow to their fleet. But they had contracts for two more Dreadnaughts in the works with one of their suppliers, and assuming Snoke’s finances were still able to cover that, assuming that the banks had not yet caught wind of his demise, they might be able to replace some of the loss within the coming months. The question of staffing was another thing entirely, given that they’d intended to promote officers aboard the _Fulminatrix_ to command the new Starships…

The question of finances hung heavy over their heads, as well. It was only a matter of time before Snoke’s fate became common knowledge, if it wasn’t already. It was anyone’s guess what would happen to their financial situation if they suddenly lost their most significant financial backer.

The droid finished cleaning him, knocking him from his reverie as it placed him back into his wheelchair, sitting him on a clean towel.

“Much better,” the droid said cheerfully. Hux couldn’t quite bring himself to be so enthused. The droid wheeled him out to his room, bypassing the bed, which though stripped of sheets, still stank – though now he could smell chemical cleaners soaking into the mattress.

It stopped him in front of his blue couch, and helped him to lay on it. Hux sighed heavily, lying stark naked on the couch skin still slightly damp.

Only four days ago, he’d been giving his speech in front of thousands of his troops, firing Starkiller. Now, he was watching the Order crumble around him, while his body leaked and he was passed between droids like a ragdoll. Not to mention the _baby_.

“Where is it?” He asked wearily, fatigue pushing at him now that he was finally clean.

“The baby, sir? She is in her cot. I will bring her to you,” The droid merrily spun around to collect the child, leaving Hux to gape.

It was _here_ , still?

The droid returned, pushing the bundle into his arms before he could protest, the swaddled baby still asleep. Though now, rather than a towel, it was swaddled in a charcoal grey blanket.

He looked at the droid in dismay. “What am I to do with it?” He asked, thinking of where it could go. The Stormtrooper program? Perhaps – or into the Academy program, be trained as an officer? They were desperately short of both at the moment, but the utility of this creature wouldn’t manifest for years.

The Order might be finished by then, at this rate.

The droid seemed to interpret his question as having a much smaller scope, however. “If she wakes, you can feed her. I pumped you whilst you slept several times, and she has been fed, but it would assist your bond to feed her yourself. We have supplements to add to her feeds if you express more, as well.”

Hux stared dumbly at the bot. “You… Pumped me?”

He couldn’t be breastfeeding. That was ridiculous. As ridiculous, perhaps, as carrying a baby around inside him for months without even knowing it was possible, as ridiculous as giving birth unexpectedly in his refresher during the First Order’s hour of need.

“Yes, you are under-producing milk, but I have added supplements to ensure that the milk provides sufficient calories. She has had her first feed of colostrum, but she will need to continue to feed every two hours. In the interest of allowing you to rest, I recommend expressing as much as you can via pump, and I will feed her during the night cycle. Insufficient milk production can be replaced by formula.”

“I can’t believe this,” He was aware of a tightness, a soreness in his chest, but he didn’t think that his chest looked very swollen. Perhaps his nipples stuck out a little more than usual, but it just looked as though he’d gained a little weight…

The baby yawned, stretching in its swaddle. One arm had wormed free, fingers flexing next to its tiny face as its scrunched up little eyes widened a fraction, focusing on Hux. Still that same, deep brown that he remembered from before.

“Have you thought of a name, General?” The droid asked politely. “The paperwork is ready to be filed, once we have the name and the identity of the father, if it is known.”

He had no idea of a name. Hadn’t given it any thought at all. He didn’t expect that he would be keeping it, so it didn’t seem like it would matter terribly much. He had no time in his life – least of all now – for a baby. And though he was quite certain that he knew the identity of the father, he wasn’t sure that he wanted a paper trail to prove the nature of his relationship with his fething Supreme Leader.

“I can’t answer those questions currently,” he said, eyes still on the newborn. She was quite ugly, features all pushed together as though squished, though her large brown eyes were, dare he admit it, endearing. Even if they were Ren’s.

He didn’t think the thing resembled himself much at all. And it was so small – her little fingers on her free hand grasped at the air, and he curiously allowed her to hold his finger. Her grip was extremely strong, he noted. She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from his face, nor could he look away from hers.

“Did you hear me, sir?” The droid said gently, tapping his shoulder. Hux startled, jumping slightly and jostling the infant, who wiggled indignantly. “What?”

“The paternity test result have returned,” the droid said, apparently repeating itself. “And have confirmed the identity of the father."

“What – what paternity test?” Hux snarled, fear rising in him. “Who ordered such a thing? When did this happen? Why –“

“While you were asleep,” the droid said hurriedly, its worried gaze on the infant as Hux’s ire rose. “The Supreme Leader took a sample to test and see if he were the child’s father.”

Hux’s heart was in his throat. “And?” He said, as though he didn’t already know the answer.

“He is,” the droid confirmed. “And I am now updating the records to reflect-“

“Don’t!” Hux hissed.

The droid looked at him quizzically. “Sir?”

“No one needs to know about this,” He said quietly, trying to pull his hand away from the baby’s firm grip. She wouldn’t budge.

“But the records, I need to update-“

“ _Blast the records_!” Hux wrenched his finger away from the child, and ignored how her eyes welled with tears, and her breath began to hitch in preparation for another tantrum.

“There is no father! Leave it blank!”

The droid seemed scandalised. “In the interests of-“

“Authorisation override: Armitage Hux,” He said coldly, feeling satisfied when the droid’s demeanour shifted to neutral as it processed his voice and matched it with the verbal override.

“Yes, General,” it said tonelessly. “Awaiting command.”

“File the birth certificate with absolute secrecy, black clearance,” he said quickly, absently giving his daughter his finger to clutch again, which softened her whimpers. “List no one as the father.”

“Yes, General.” He let himself relax into the couch as the droid did as instructed.

At least that was sorted, for now. Though, apparently, Ren has let himself into his room as he slept, and was now in possession of proof of the baby’s origins. He could only hope that Ren had been as discreet as he had.

His daughter demanded his attention again, making a strange sound and opening her mouth into a wide “o” repeatedly.

“She is hungry,” the droid said, matter-of-factly.

“Then feed her,” he said, trying to shift her towards the Nan-E unit, though the droid made no move to take her from him.

“There is no formula in the room currently, it will have to be ordered,” and Hux could feel his face falling. “I recommend feeding her directly from the teat, until more can be procured.”

“How long will it take to procure?” He asked, desperately.

“There is no baby formula on board the Finalizer. It will need to be restocked at the next supply run.”

So there was nothing for it, then. “How do I… How do I feed her?” He asked, feeling useless.

The droid assisted him in positioning the baby so that she her face was pressed into his chest, and helped him adjust her on his arms so that her lips were at his nipple.

“Try to express some milk so she can taste it, and she will latch on,” the droid suggested, still dull and neutral due to the command override.

He wasn’t sure what that meant. Tensing his chest didn’t seem to do anything, and he looked at the droid helplessly. “How do I express?”

“I will show you,” and with a baby in his arms, he couldn’t stop the droid from reaching over and squeezing his chest around the areola until a small, white bead of liquid appeared at the tip. The droid then rubbed the wet nipple over the baby’s lips.

She perked up, tongue darting out to taste, and then eagerly clinched her lips over him, suckling at him. It felt utterly bizarre, and there was nothing he could do but sit and endure it.

“How long will I have to do this?” He asked, miserably, eyes unable to move from where the baby was latched onto him. The hand she had snuck free of her swaddle was opening and closing into a fist as she drank, her eyes looking up at him curiously as he spoke.

“As long as she chooses to nurse,” the droid replied, and Hux silently resigned himself to sitting here at the behest of this strange, useless creature. Once every two hours, the droid had said. He had to sit and let this thing… Suck on him, for an indeterminate amount of time, every two hours, until the next time that the Finalizer could resupply.

He considered having the thing spaced, but stopped that train of thought when he recalled that Ren had seen the thing, and knew it was his. Best not to do anything rash until he knew the Supreme Leader’s opinion on the matter. He didn’t need to fall any lower in the man’s graces, now that he’d missed at least one vital strategy meeting, and while everything was so up in the air.

He couldn’t do anything now other than stare at the ceiling and dread the uncertainty of everything. He was adrift, facing a crisis that he saw – for the first time – no clear way out of. Too many variables were unknown, too many factors outside of his control.

And here he was, nursing an infant that he had in no way prepared for, requiring a wheelchair and a droid to move, and without control over so much as his bowel movements.

He lay like that for no more than ten minutes, before the infant began to fuss, her suckling no longer rewarding her with milk. The droid was quick to arrange her on the other side, and she latched on again eagerly. He lasted fifteen minutes on the other side, which seemed enough to sate her, though she kept suckling after she’d bled him dry. She didn’t cry when no more milk materialised, simply chewed on him with her small gums. It was uncomfortable.

“Take her, please,” he said to the droid, desperate to get back to his post and cement his position. Now that this task was done, he needed to move on to more important things. He’d been absent too long already.

The Nan-E unit dutifully removed the child, taking her back to her cot, even as she screamed in protest at the loss of her parent.

He tried to lift himself from the couch, pushing through the pain in his abdomen and legs. He managed to stumble towards his closet, and he leaned heavily on the wall as he dug through it for a fresh uniform. When he assembled enough to pass for a shift – his boots, jodhpurs, and tunic – he let himself slide down the wall to rest on the ground. Standing and dressing simultaneously seemed beyond him at this moment. He’d forgone undergarments for the sake of haste, but as he tried to slip on his jodhpurs, he noticed blood staining his thighs. He gritted his teeth, determined not to falter. He pulled the jodhpurs on roughly. It wouldn’t be long that he’d be out and about. He would have to deal with the blood later. There wasn’t time now.

In short order he was dressed acceptably enough to leave his room. He leant on the wall again to ease himself to a standing position, abdomen and groin still sending shooting pains through him with each movement. He made it to the door before thinking to take his datapad with him. With a barked order, the Nan-E unit brought it over to him, and he left the room without so much as a glance back at the droid or upset infant. Hopefully, by the time he returned, it would have cried itself to sleep. And, with any luck, he’d have some idea of what to do with it.

As he walked, slowly, taking small steps, he typed a message to Ren on the datapad. _Request immediate meeting, please advise location._

He sent it with an urgent flag, though he was already heading to Ren’s quarters. The man was quite predictable – he only ever frequented the training rooms or his quarters, and only seemed to deviate during missions or to annoy Hux. He had at least a fifty-fifty chance of catching the man in his room.

As he continued, he fretted, wondering if his tone wasn’t obsequious enough. He’d never even imagine sending Snoke such a message. Would Ren take offense? It didn’t bear thinking about. Stars, he wished he were in a better state of mind.

This, of course, was assuming the man even bothered to check his datapad. He had certainly seemed to take a singular pride in being lax in his duties to the First Order up until this point. That didn’t bode well for how he might perform as their leader.

His steps slowed as he felt something solid leaking from him, sliding down his thigh inside his trousers. He hoped it was only another blood clot. It certainly felt small, and wet. He pushed on, unable to increase his pace through the pain, but determined to make it to Ren’s quarters.

Relief flooded him as he arrived at the door, but the trepidation returned as he pressed the chime to request entry. The button scanned his fingerprint, and hummed an affirmative, indicating that he hadn’t been demoted in his absence. He was still in the system as General.

He waited, nerves increasing with every passing moment. He could feel the trickle leaking from him continuing, and it wouldn’t be long before the blood would be soaking through the thick material of his uniform. He tried to stand at parade rest and ignore the discomfort. There was no indication of anything happening. He was tempted to press the chime again, but he stifled the urge by checking his datapad.

The message was unread, indicating that Ren was continuing his pattern of shirking the most minimal of duties. That left Hux in the hall, outside the man’s quarters, bleeding steadily and distinctly uncomfortable.

After a solid minute of waiting, swaying dangerously on his feet, he pressed the chime again. In desperation, he kept the button depressed for a beat longer than necessary, hoping that the urgency could be communicated through the sound. He waited long enough that he needed to lean against the wall to stand upright, to no avail.

Ren wasn’t answering. Either he wasn’t in his rooms, or he didn’t want to speak to him. The former was more likely. Ren rarely avoided confrontation; rather, he ran into it like a Rathtar in heat, all violence and impulse.

A quick glance at his datapad confirmed that Ren still hadn’t deigned to read the message he’d sent. He sighed heavily, a symptom of the duress he was under. He was suddenly rather desperate to be back in his quarters, with a droid on hand to wait on him, and a couch to lay on so that he no longer had to stress his aching legs and arse.

He’d only taken a few steps before his bowels opted to relieve themselves. He had no way to stop it; his body was too stretched and open, too weakened, torn apart, and it was definitely not just blood clots leaking from him, now.

He blinked at the ceiling a few times, mortified, trying not to let the fluid building in his eyes overflow. There had been altogether too much fluid from him over the course of the day.

He was quick to order a medidroid to escort him back, wheelchair and all. He had to stand there, in his own filth, for several minutes before the droid appeared.

Once back in his refresher, he let himself be washed by the droid, feeling no particular inclination to do any of the dirty work himself. Once that was complete, he was placed on the new mattress and sheets that now graced his bed.

He lay there, noting that the infant was still crying.

The Nan-E unit brought her to him, explaining, “She is still hungry,” and placing her in his arms to feed her.

He lay there, pinned to the bed by this tiny creature and his body’s own weakness, feeling absolutely powerless. While the droid tssked over his low milk production, he tried to think of a way to ensure his continued survival.

Try as he might, no solution came to mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haven't written the next chapter yet, but have planned on doing Ren's perspective :)


	4. Kylo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo is an angry boy.

Kylo Ren wasn’t sure what to make of the scene before him.

“ _I had a… I had a- a baby._ ”

Well, he could see that there was certainly a child cradled in the General’s arms. And his state of dress made it clear that some his rear end had seen better days, but Ren was not so ignorant of human biology as to be drawn in. Splayed out before him was proof of Hux’s manhood; did he really think Kylo was so _clueless_? That he _didn’t know_ where _children came from_?

What has Hux playing at? Smuggling an infant aboard – and stars knew how long he’d had it in his rooms – and presenting it as his own?

“ _This is your…This is your_ daughter.”

What. Was. Hux. _Playing at._

He’d simply stared, floored that Hux expected him to believe such an obvious fabrication.

He was tempted to kill Hux. His anger surged through him, burning along his veins, drawing in the force around himself. The man had either gone mad, or was trying to manipulate him with some absurd, ill-conceived plan. In any case, it was clear that he was no longer required.

He summoned the force around him, prepared to strike, ready to reach his hand up and crush Hux’s frontal lobe, when –

When he felt the faintest brush of something against him.

He froze. It was almost like a caress, but intangible, a curious and innocent touch that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere.

He followed it in the force, arriving shortly at the small towel that Hux held in his arms.

It had sensed him.

It brushed at him again, excited now, reacting to his presence physically by gurgling happily.

It was _pleased_ to sense him.

Hux was still staring at him, but he was no longer Kylo’s focus. The child had the force. Was strong with it. Was already reaching, searching, exploring, before she could even control her own hands.

… He turned and left.

He wasn’t fleeing. He wasn’t. He just needed to gather the facts from a reliable source and figure out what had fething happened in the single hour that he had allowed Hux to run to his rooms and hide.

He had been suspicious when Hux had rushed past him when they’d arrived back on the Finalizer. With all that he knew about the man, he needed to keep a close eye on him. There was no telling what schemes he was concocting at any given moment, or when he might decide his once co-commander’s usefulness had ended. Without the barrier of Snoke to keep Hux in line, Kylo had to be on his guard at all times.

He’d been quick to respond to the unanimous (with the obvious exception of Hux) call amongst the top-brass to call a meeting, confident that Hux would appear promptly, thus placing him safely in Ren’s direct line of sight, where it was harder for him to get away with his plotting.

But to the surprise of the entirety of the room, the man hadn’t bothered to show up.

Kylo had instantly been on high alert, wondering if the man hadn’t fled the vessel and was perhaps planning on destroying the _Finalizer_ with him inside. When the calls of several officers in the room remained unanswered by Hux, Ren halted the proceedings so that he could personally bash down the General’s door and demand answers; to stop him from completing whatever it was he was planning before he had a chance to _do it._

And that’s where things had spiralled completely out of his control.

He stood outside the Officers’ meeting, hand hovering over the door control, uncertain of how to proceed.

He took a moment to steel himself. Hux’s… _Situation_ didn’t change anything. The Resistance, the Scavenger-cum-Jedi girl, the precipice upon which he stood as he edged closer to the goal that his grandfather had sought… His priorities hadn’t changed.

Where did Hux even get a _fething baby._

He channelled his anger into a swift punch above the door control, feeling a curl of satisfaction as the metal bent beneath his fist, before commanding the door open and striding back into the meeting.

The general chatter died away as he strode into the room, leaving what remained of their commanding officers to salute awkwardly as he moved into the room, deliberately looming.

As much as he might despise these people, they were necessary. It was necessary, therefore, that they acknowledged him as their ruler – as Hux had put it, Supreme Leader. There would no doubt be jostling and dick-measuring as these parasites looked to turn the situation to their advantage, to advance themselves amidst the general chaos, but so long as his position went unchallenged, he would allow their power struggles to play out.

It was Lieutenant Mitaka who was brave enough to gently inquire, “Supreme Leader, will General Hux be in attendance?”

He let his eyes flick over to the man, who flinched under the attention, sweat beading visibly on his forehead. Silence reigned for a tic.

“No,” he answered truthfully. He wasn’t sure how to describe the General’s situation, so he didn’t bother. “He is indisposed. You will continue without him.”

Mitaka nodded stiffly, and Ren could feel his fear – curiously, fear for the General’s wellbeing, rather than his own. Perhaps he was under the impression that Ren was responsible for Hux being “indisposed”. Well, a little fear could do a lot of good in a subordinate. _Let him think what he likes._

The rest of the room looked grave as they moved to obey and begin the meeting, but he could sense their excitement over the proclamation. It was like a school of Buzzfish that had scented blood in the water. They coveted Hux’s position, and more than a few of them were hopeful that they could take it.

Their excitement seemed to give way to confusion as Ren left the room.

He had no further cause to be there. He would be updated on their calculations, their plans, on the things decided were the best course of action. He would acknowledge or veto them as he saw fit later – as Hux was no longer in the room, he saw little reason to keep a watchful eye on their scheming. As it were, however, he had more pressing concerns. He stormed in the direction of his quarters, determined to find clarity in his thoughts, in his next move.

The force connection with the scavenger girl had persisted after Snoke’s death. Although he wasn’t learned in the ways of force connections, he assumed that if Snoke had been responsible for their connection – as he had claimed to be in the throne room that had become his grave – then surely it should no longer exist between them?

But he’d seen her. He’d seen her after Crait, a new strength alight in her eyes, a hardness that he hadn’t seen before. A lack of compassion that simultaneously stung and imbued him with hope that she could be turned.

They were still connected. He suspected that Snoke was bluffing – potentially not about beginning the connection, but certainly his involvement in its development.

Snoke was dead, so why were they now connected?

There had to be an answer. Their fates _must_ be linked. And yet, she had denied him in the throne room, even after they’d proven to one another how perfect they were together. They’d fought alongside one another as though they’d been training for it their whole lives, as though they were meant to be at each other’s sides.

What they needed to do was track down the Resistance while they were still weak. He needed to wipe out the dregs of their organisation – _they_ were what was keeping her from him. She clung to them, couldn’t let them go, couldn’t see the future that they could create together for the bonds she had created amongst their band of thieves and traitors.

She couldn’t see that she was above them, that they ought to have meant nothing to her.

Once she saw the Resistance perish, she would finally be free to choose him. And the future that they could build together.

He tried to imagine that future – the thing he desired most. His steps slowed as he delved into his mind, drawing out his deepest desires…

And was surprised when he found his thoughts focusing on the little bundle he’d sensed in Hux’s quarters.

Despite himself, he strode towards Hux’s quarters, letting himself be guided the instincts he’d drawn out of himself.

He commanded the door to open, and it did, acknowledging his rank.

Hux lay asleep where Kylo had last seen him, splayed obscenely on his bed, fully on display, the little bundle kicking up a terrible fuss in his arms. Not enough to wake Hux, it seemed, who was utterly dead to the world.In the corner, two droids were piecing together a frame for a small cot, welding together thin strips of metal for the bars.

He crossed the room to stand beside the bed, looking down at the squirming infant. She was quite upset, lonely and afraid, confused, and tired.

If Hux was capable of sleeping through the considerable racket caused by a screaming child, Kylo doubted that he’d be awoken by her removal. He picked her up, hands wrapped around her middle.

“Support her head!”

Kylo’s own head whipped around to see a short, stout droid with a vaguely anthropomorphised faceplate glaring daggers at his handling of the baby. He briefly considered destroying the thing, annoyed that it had surprised him, before deciding against it. He didn’t know how to handle infants – he might need assistance in this. Hux, certainly, didn’t seem to be in any state to do anything for her.

He looked down again, letting one hand move behind the baby’s head as he raised her tiny body to inspect.

He’d never held a child this young before. He’d never even seen a baby this small.

Her cries turned to whimpers as she felt hands on her, her eyes peeking open to inspect him in turn.

Hux had certainly chosen the child well. She certainly had his mother’s eyes – _his_ eyes.

He wondered if Hux had seen those eyes on a force-sensitive child in his Stormtrooper program, and concocted a scheme around her. Trick him into caring for her, use her as some sort of leverage, threaten her where he couldn’t threaten Kylo. It certainly seemed cruel enough for the man, though much less thought-out than his standard scheming. Something in that formulation didn’t add up.

He felt her nudge at his mind, curious again, and she had stopped whimpering. She was distracted from her loneliness by the novelty of sensing him, another force user. She wiggled, breathing hard through her mouth several times and forming almost-sounds.

With her eyes wide open, staring at him in awe, it was like looking into a tiny mirror.

“Where did you come from,” he found himself saying aloud, and the baby wiggled with more urgency in response to his voice.

“The General gave birth to her approximately half an hour ago,” the stout droid behind him supplied helpfully.

So the General had programed the droid to lie for him. _Brilliant_.

“Did he, now?” Kylo asked, wondering what other tales Hux had spun in its processor. “How did it come out of him? From where?”

The droid straightened, a look of consternation on its remarkably expressive face. “I’m afraid that that is a matter of patient-confidentiality, but even if I could tell you, I was not present for the birth itself.”

Kylo barked a laugh, amused that Hux couldn’t even program a proper lie into the thing, no doubt due to the absurdity the claims he was making. It would be easy enough to test the veracity of his story through testing the child, however. He would present Hux with the proof of the lie, and demand answers – demand to know why Hux thought this was, in any way, a useful strategy. Then he’d likely kill the man.

“I want her tested; take a sample from her, tell me where she came from, if myself or anyone in our records is a genetic match for her,” he instructed the droid, holding her towards it. If there was no match in the records of the First Order, then it was likely that it had come from the Stormtrooper program, taken from some backwater planet and taken by Hux before she could be processed.

The General must have planned this some time in advance, to have a baby ready in his rooms the moment they stepped back on board.

The droid ruefully unfolded a small syringe out of its chest, attached to the end of a retractable arm. “Sorry, dear,” it said quietly, pushing aside the towel enough to pull out a tiny hand, and pressing the needle to her exposed wrist.

The child in question let her gaze fall away from Kylo, looking at the needle with interest. Kylo could feel her curiosity about the shiny, moving thing above her.

With a small click, a tiny needle burst through her skin, sinking into a vein. The droid held the hand to stop her dislodging the needle as she reacted, screaming and trying to pull away from the source of the pain. Kylo held her tightly as she tried to wiggle her whole body away, her screams increasing in volume as she found she couldn’t.

The little syringe held only a few millilitres of blood when the droid pulled away. Another arm extended to replace the retracting syringe arm, this one with a tiny nozzle on the end. It pressed the end of the nozzle to the area the needle had pierced, and smeared a blob of bacta gel over the site.

“The sample will be analysed to determine her ancestry and species,” the droid said as the nozzle arm also folded back into its body, one of its regular arms still holding the infant’s hand.

“Species?” Kylo said, pulling the baby closer to inspect her. He cradled her against his chest, her head in the crook of one arm while his other arm pulled away the towel completely, exposing the weeping child to the coldness of the room.

Five fingers on each hand, five toes per foot, an ugly umbilical stump still poking from her stomach. She kicked and flailed with her limbs now that they were free, desperately communicating her distress – at the pain, the cold, the fear. She appeared to be perfectly human.

“Why do we need to test for species?” He asked the droid, whose focus was on the baby with a pinched expression.

“I’m afraid that falls under the purview of patient confidentiality-“

“TO _HELL_ WITH THAT!” Ren roared, taking a menacing step towards the droid, towering over it. He could feel his nostrils flaring as he let his temper flare, frustration emanating from him in the force, causing the baby’s cries to become more shrill as she felt his rage.

“I am the _Supreme Leader_ , there is _nothing_ that will be withheld from me!” He shouted, ignoring the infant’s caterwauling.

The droid seemed to take a moment to process that, mechanical optical lenses refocusing with a whirr as it sought confirmation of this. Kylo wasn’t sure what it would find – he’d assumed the mantle because Hux had referred to him as such in the throne room. He hadn’t thought to file or process any kind of official proclamation into any database, or staffing register, or whatever there fething was for the droids to access to understand his rank. Whereas before he’d been treated as something akin to Hux’s _equal_ (despite formally existing outside of the First Order’s ranks), he now needed to be acknowledged as his superior.

After a tense moment, the droid looked up at him, nodding assent. “Yes, Supreme Leader,” it said formally. “Then nature of the birth revealed that General Hux has non-human anatomy, presumably inherited from one of his progenitors. As such, the child may also exhibit non-human traits or anatomy. As such, tests will have to be conducted to ascertain their heritage, for the purposes of health records, ensuring appropriate healthcare, and-“

Kylo stopped its diatribe with a wave of his hand, the baby still cradled in one arm against his chest. She was still crying, naked and kicking, and reaching out with the force with an utterly miserable presence. It was becoming irritating, and Kylo’s nerves were frayed enough as it was.

“Take her from me,” he ordered, mind stuck on the exposition of Hux’s supposed alien ancestry. Perhaps that was the lie that he’d programmed into the droid – the reasoning for his miraculous ability to produce offspring in whatever plot he was enacting.

The droid did so, easing her gently into its arms, and immediately rushing to procure a blanket to wrap her in.

The construction droids in the corner had completed their little project, and were placing a cut-to-size piece of foam into the coat to act as a mattress.

The caregiver droid shooed them out of the way to place the child in the cot, hushing her in a soft voice as it did so.

“Have the sample tested immediately,” Kylo ordered the droid, drawing it away from comforting the baby. “Send me the results the moment it is done.”

He spared Hux a final glance – he was a mess, hair dishevelled, on display, and…

Leaking blood from between his legs.

Stomach churning, he turned and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've loved reading all of the comments!! Thank you, everyone, for your lovely words!!
> 
> I'll be away for a week, and won't be able to update, buuut I already have plans for the next few chapters >:) hehehe


	5. Inappropriate use of bacta

He'd taken to his room, still not fleeing - simply mediating after a trying day.

Luke was dead. That hadn't truly sunk in yet, and he'd barely had the time to process it after. .. _everything_.

He should have been elated, he supposed. Ought to have celebrated the demise of another powerful enemy. He wasn’t sure what he felt. Not elation. Not even satisfaction. A mix of emotions, too tangled and complex for him to unwind all at once.

Funnily enough, his first instinct had been to turn to Snoke for his approval; his praise at Kylo’s victory over Luke Skywalker.

How deeply Snoke's conditioning still affected him.

He needed to be stronger than that, now. He needed to forge his own path, not be led blindly by another. Not be manipulated. _Never again_.

At this conclusion, he found his thoughts drifting from Skywalker, and back to Hux. _Speaking of being manipulated_...

It was absurd. He felt that there was some additional factor, some important element to the situation that he was missing. Hux couldn't possibly think Kylo would fall for his ruse, after all. Hux was going out on a limb to assume he'd even care for a child, regardless of its origin. He'd never given any indication to Hux that he cared at all for children. In fact, if Hux knew anything about his past, he might be aware of his bloody record with regards to them. And did he think Kylo was so easily manipulated? Admittedly, he'd demonstrated that it was possible under Snoke, but now he was more determined than ever to avoid history repeating itself. Not to mention that Hux, whilst certainly manipulative, was no Snoke. He wasn’t even force sensitive.

... Perhaps he intended to use the _baby's_ force powers to control Kylo?

He almost dismissed the thought the moment he had it, it was so ridiculous. Almost. But with a man like Hux, one could never be too sure, or too careful.

Regardless of the nature of the plan, he knew that any attempt by Hux to bend Kylo to his will would be met with swift retribution. He wasn’t about to repeat past mistakes.

He couldn't concentrate, his thoughts were too troubled, his mood now too sour. Perhaps a session in a simulator, or the training room, would do his restless mind some good.

He stormed out of his quarters, heading straight for the private training room that was acknowledged as his alone.

Once there, he divested himself of his outer layers, cloak, tunic and gloves being carelessly discarded to the side of the room.

His warm up was interrupted by a droid entering his domain. He turned to it, ready to destroy it – nothing was supposed to enter his sanctuary.

He stopped when he realised it was the caretaker droid from Hux’s room.

“The results of the test you ordered, Supreme Leader,” it said as it approached him, clutching a sheet of flimsy.It appeared blank, save for a “FYEO” at the top of the page. The droid stopped before him and extended the document to him.

Upon taking it, it recognised his fingerprint, automatically revealing the contents. The droid promptly left the room as he analysed the page.

He'd never seen a paternity test before, and there appeared to be two before him. Both compared genes from the child and one prospective parent. Fortunately, underneath the maze of numbers in columns, there was a simple summary of the results. The first test confirmed that Hux was indeed the father, or at least had a 99.9998% chance of being so.

Well, obviously that excluded Kylo from being – 99.999% likely to be the father, also.

Oh.

The flimsy fluttered to the floor. His gut churned, his heart beating loud enough that he could hear it.

He was already imagining all the ways that Hux could have doctored the test, it was HIS droid that oversaw it and delivered the results, after all, and maybe he'd only been _pretending_ to be asleep before – no, Kylo would have felt his mind if he were awake, perhaps he'd had the droid drug him to in order to _appear_ asleep, and then interfered with the lab results –

But with the memory of the little face with brown eyes that felt so familiar, he dismissed the notion. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense that she was _his_.

Hux had access to his DNA - they'd never used protection, Hux always received, so perhaps he’d taken a “sample” from himself after they'd been together, and used it to create a hybrid of them both in his lab, which would explain how it got on the ship...

He was piecing together a very disturbing picture.

He grabbed the flimsy and threw it towards his gear, before turning on the nearest punching bag, showering it with rapid-fire hits. And if he imagined that he were beating Hux to a pulp, well, there was no one the wiser.

 

 

 

 

 

It was exceedingly rare that Hux couldn't concentrate on an assigned task. As such, it was irritating beyond measure that his attempts to finish reading Mitaka’s ( _extremely_ comprehensive) minutes from the command meeting were constantly being interrupted by a _nagging_ _thought_.

He opted to indulge the inclination, given that he was increasingly confident in the Order’s position. The vast bulk of their funds was in safe hands, Snoke having been a member of various boards of their front-companies under a pseudonym... But other First Order top-brass (including himself) were _also_ on those boards. Further, despite the Resistance’s escape, their meagre forces were no match for the First Order’s sheer military might, and that might was currently in the process of taking over worlds across the galaxy. They had timed the official political takeovers of various key strategic planets and systems to coincide with Starkiller’s firing. Though losing that weapon may have been a blow to their ability to threaten any attempts to prevent the Order’s rule amongst the general population of those systems, it had done an effective job of cowing political leaders who’d been associated with the Order, but had previously lacked the balls to really commit to its project.

In short, his earlier fears may have been a result of him _catastrophising_. That said, his own position within the Order remained in question.

But the _real_ burning question on his mind at the moment was his position with regard to his bowels.

Hux was still bedridden. Yes, he could walk short distances, but after his disastrous foray to confront the Supreme Leader – his _baby daddy,_ his mind unhelpfully supplied - he'd learned that it was better to not risk it.

He lowered the datapad to his lap, looking at the Nan-E unit across room from his reclined position on the bed.

“How long will this _humiliation_ continue?” He demanded of the droid, which was busy cooing over the cot.

“Sir?” It inquired, irritating him by only glancing away from the amused infant before its optics flicked back to the as-yet-nameless child. “I'm not sure what you mean?”

“The...” he swallowed, hands wringing in his lap. “The _accidents_ ,“ he clarified, hoping against hope that the droid would take his meaning.

“Oh!” It said, vocoder entirely too cheerful, as always. “Of course, General, that must be distressing!”

Hux grit his teeth, jaw creaking. “Indeed. How long can I expect to remain in this condition?”

The droid finally turned to him fully, head tiled in thought. “If it continues for longer than six months, then-“

“Six _months_?!” he shrieked, eyes bugging. The image of involuntarily relieving himself on the bridge burned into his mind. “I can't- there must be-“

“Sir, please, calm down!” the droid rushed to his side, moving to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, which Hux brusquely brushed aside. “Your fecal incontinence-“ And Hux shivered at the droid saying that out loud, “is going to be more severe than fully-human, vaginal births; your cloaca is stretched, and has some mild tears. Further, your pelvic floor was, to be blunt, unprepared for the stress of pregnancy and birth.”

Hux really didn't know terribly much about traditional human births (and he still had trouble thinking of himself as “non-human”, even in part), but it was worse knowing that his situation was more complicated. “What treatment is there?” He asked desperately.

The droid clapped its hands together cheerfully. “You'll be pleased to know that Met-X5, the droid that examined you during the birth, has designed a special bacta pack for insertion into your cloaca,” it announced proudly. Hux wished it would stop saying “cloaca”. He didn't even fully understand what that _was_.“Add in some kegel exercises, and I expect you'll be well on your way to recovery!”

“When can I expect this bacta pack to arrive?” He asked warily. “And how long must it be... _Inserted_ for?”.

“I shall call for the prototype to be brought up immediately, though I am not certain of the details of usage” The Nan-E unit said, though Hux found himself concerned over the word “prototype”.

“… Has it been tested?” He wasn’t terribly keen on inserting an untested device inside of himself, but that instinct was warring with the desire to end his unfortunate situation as quickly as possible.

“You must understand that your case is unique,” the droid said sagely. That was a _no_ , then. “But bacta is a known and reliable remedy. The key issue is the application, which is all the device assists with.”

“Well,” Hux considered his options. “I am willing to try it.”

“Excellent, I’ve placed an order now, it should arrive shortly,” and with that, it trundled back over to the cot to check on the baby. She’d fallen asleep, but the droid seemed content to hover over her, simply watching.

He wasn’t sure how long it would take, but he was at least satisfied that some action had been taken on the issue that had been distracting him from his work. He picked up his datapad again and resumed his work, scrolling through Mitaka’s report and highlighting the pertinent information.

He kept receiving live updates from the Lieutenant, as well, which was painting a useful picture of how things were developing. Though they didn’t know where the Resistance had holed itself up – and they hadn’t the resources to sift through the possible locations – they had made excellent progress in taking over key worlds. The only issue would be the question of resources should too many worlds rebel at once. For all that Starkiller was an impressive feat of engineering and technology, it was no longer in their arsenal, and it was a _disaster_ for PR.

But they were in the early stages still. The initial unpleasantness would soon give way to order. Their military might was still great at this point.

Though he had noted that the bulk of his engineering and research teams were space debris alongside a large hunk of the _Supremacy_.

It was impossible to think about the Order’s position without considering his own, and the _Supremacy_ had housed some of the key elements that had made him the most useful, and therefore least disposable – his research and development team, the vast bulk of the engineers who’d been loyal to him. The _Supremacy_ had been their mobile base, what Hosnian Prime had been to the Republic. There was much that was lost.

The Order’s main focus over the next few months, however, would be consolidating their control over their new acquisitions, and crushing any rebellion. He would have to reassemble an engineering team in his own time. He expected a few sleepless nights in his future.

As though to remind him of her presence, a sharp wail pierced the air.

Yes. _Quite_ a few sleepless nights.

“She is hungry again, sir,” The droid explained, needlessly. He already recognised that cry, as the droid had repeatedly told him what that particular pitch and timbre meant each time she did it (which, so far, was frequently). He was already removing his night shirt as the droid approached him with her.

“Hand her over,” He sighed, resigned. He let the droid arrange her in one of his arms, so the other could continue to scroll through his datapad.

He hated the feel of her gums gnawing on him. Not only was it distinctly uncomfortable, but it was incredibly distracting.

She had only been attached for a few minutes when a droid entered through the service door, a discrete panel slipping aside to allow it to enter the room. The medical droid. _Thank every deity than any creature ever worshipped_.

“General,” it acknowledged, stopping at the foot of his bed.

“Please explain the use of this device you’ve created,” Hux said without preamble, not bothering to not appear desperate in front of the droids.

The droid extended an arm from its torso, which clutched an item which was clearly a sex toy.

“The device is-“

“ _What_ is that?” Hux huffed.

The droid didn’t react to being interrupted.

“The device is designed to be inserted and left inside of the patient to dissolve. It is a semi-firm bacta gel that is designed to be absorbed once inside. You may experience some minor leakage, but a simple sanitary pad inserted into undergarments will be more than adequate to contain it. It should dissolve within fifty-two hours, but you should expect that it will be removed with bowel movements. It is flushable, or can be cleaned and reinserted.”

Huff inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the sensation of a tiny jaw munching on his nipple. “And this will prevent further… Incontinence,” Gods, he hated saying that.

“No,” the droid said matter-of-factly.

Why did he even _bother_? “Wasn’t that the whole point of the device?” He asked, harshly.

The droid straightened a little, as though slighted. “Sir, the tearing will be healed by the bacta. But it cannot strengthen the abdominal fold. Exercises should be-“

“I can’t _shit myself_ on the _bridge_ , or in my _office_ , or in a _meeting_!” Hux yelled, which caused the child at his chest to dislodge and cry out. “ _Or anywhere_!”

“Do you want the device to be inserted now?” The droid asked, instead of answering him.

“Well, yes,” he gritted out.

“I will remove your pants and under garments to proceed,” it said.

Hux had thought that he preferred the clinical coldness of the medical droid to the Nan-E unit, but he was starting to detect a hint of derision behind its professional front. “Very well,” he grumbled, readjusting the baby to feed again, in the hope that she would shut up.

It was, of course, when he was buck-naked and having a bacta dildo inserted into him as he breast-fed the infant that the Supreme Leader once again burst into the room with a deafening screech of metal.

_Well, this might as well happen, at this point._ Hux looked up to meet the Ren’s eyes, which seemed to have doubled in size. He was frozen as though in carbonite, mouth hanging comically wide.

“Take a holo,” Hux hissed, hyper aware of the bacta-penis inserted halfway into him in full view of his only superior. “It will last longer.”

The Supreme Leader’s eyes finally met his. _That’s right, my eyes are up here_. “There’s no part of you that I haven’t seen before,” Ren retorted.

The droid quickly pushed the rest of the medical _apparatus_ inside of him – _all_ the way inside, leaving nothing hanging out. _Ah_.

Ren’s eyes darted downwards with the movement, and Hux was quick to cross his legs. “Was there something you needed?” He said haughtily, as though this situation wasn’t one of the most humiliating of his life.

“Why are you being sodomised by a droid?” Ren asked point-blanc.

Hux inhaled so sharply that he squeaked a little, and even the droid seemed to shrink minutely. “I’m having a _medical procedure_ done in the wake of _giving birth_ ,” He said defensively.

“Ah, on that,” Ren puffed up a little, finally remembering his purpose here. “I saw your paternity test,” he brandished a crumpled piece of flimsy in one giant paw.

“Yes, wonderful,” Hux said, switching the infant to the other side as she exhausted the first. Ren’s eyes followed the movement of the baby as Hux rearranged her. “At least we’re on the same page now.”

“You made her,” Ren said accusingly.

“Well, _we_ made her,” Hux sniffed, lip curling as she settled in, gums working him with gusto.

“No,” Ren corrected, taking a step forward. “You made her with my DNA.”

“Well, yes, but you _put it there_ , Ren,” Did he _really_ have to explain this? “I have a reproductive system, it seems. And we used it.”

“You took my seed out of your ass and mixed it together in your damn lab!” Ren shouted, which once again disturbed the baby, but was also rather disturbing to Hux - and not only because of his use of the word “ _seed_ ”.

“What, and inserted her into myself to _expel_? I think _not_ ,” Clearly there was still something to clear up between them. “Why would I want to destroy my own body my giving birth, if I had the luxury of doing this in a test tube?”

Ren laughed at him, and Hux bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something he might regret. “You _still_ want me to believe that you _gave birth_?”

“ _I_ don’t want to believe that I gave birth!” Hux pushed the now-whining baby away, towards the Nan-E droid, which hurried to take her, pushing aside the Medi-droid, which moved to stand awkwardly by the service entrance.

Hux was getting ready to really give it to Kylo _fething_ Ren, after a few days of pent up rage, frustration, pain, stress, and sleep deprivation. However, his attempt to push himself into a better sitting position cause his bowels to, once again, move.

His words died on his lips as he messed himself in front of Ren, the bacta dildo washing out in a rush with the rest of… It. It may not have been much, but it was _enough_.

Neither man spoke, eyes locked on the stain spreading on the bed.

“Would you like me to reinsert it, or provide a fresh-“

“ _SILENCE_!” Hux turned on the medical droid with fire in his eyes.

It was then that another occupant of the room shat themselves – the baby, which wore only a blanket, no diaper, and thus immediately soaked through the grey material with a disgusting black liquid.

“Oh, dear,” The Nan-E droid tutted. “What a mess.”

Ren’s eyes were now on the baby. “Why is that _black_?” He asked, voice containing a definite edge of fear.

“The excrement?” The Nan-E droid asked, looking down at the mess the infant had made.

“ _Black_?!” Hux’s stomach dropped. “She’s bleeding from the bowels?!”

“What have you _done_ to her?” Ren rushed to loom over Hux, but hesitated a foot away from the bed when the smell of Hux’s mess hit him.

“I didn’t do _anything_!” Hux shot back, about to stand until the movement smeared mess on his leg, leaving him to lay in his excretions. “It’s probably your fault – she’s _premature_ because you threw me into a _damn wall_!”

“Please, sirs-“ The Nan-E droid tried to intervene, clutching the upset child to his chest. She hated the shouting, hated the feeling of her mess, hated no longer having her warm favourite person to cling to, and to top it off, she was still hungry. And she wasn’t ready to be quiet about it.

“HOW _DARE_ YOU?!” Ren roared, veins in his neck popping out to punctuate his rage. “THIS ISN’T _MY_ FAULT – YOU DIDN’T EVEN _GIVE_ BIRTH-“

“I JUST _SHAT_ MYSELF, REN, DO YOU THINK I DID THAT FOR _SHOW_? THIS IS THE _THIRD_ MATTRESS-“

“IT’S NORMAL,” the Nan-E unit screeched, vocoder spitting a little static, as though it were close to shorting out.

Ren and Hux looked down their noses at the droid.

“For the first few days, that’s what it will look like,” The droid explained, vocoder exuding patience, though it did noticeably crackle.

“Oh,” Hux said, flush rising on his cheeks as his whole situation caught up with him.

Ren seemed to come to some realisation, as well. “Kriff, you really _did_ shit yourself,” he said, as he put a hand over his nose.

“Oh, _grow up_ , Ren,” Hux huffed, hugging his chest self-consciously. Fething _hells_ , he was leaking _milk_ , too – his hand was now damp with it.

“You are really committed to this lie, Hux,” Ren said darkly, though the effect was lessened by the hand covering his nose and mouth.

Hux noticed the Nan-E unit taking the child into the refresher, so he motioned for the medi-droid to assist him, as well. It wheeled over a chair as Hux aimed a chilly glare at Ren. “For the last time,” he enunciated each word sharply, “this isn’t a lie. Or a joke, or a hoax. We had intercourse, you impregnated me, and now _here_ we are.”

Ren stepped back as the droid helped him onto the wheelchair, seating him on the towel folded on its seat. He was still holding his nose.

“But you weren’t pregnant,” Ren countered, sounding nasally beneath his palm.

“Yes I _was_!” Hux said, waving at the droid to take him to be cleaned.

“You didn’t get fat!”

This, admittedly, was the point that had stumped Hux, as well. “I don’t know _why_ ,” he confessed, “but I had no idea until it… Came _out_.”

Ren considered him, eyes boring into Hux, though his expression was still hidden behind his fething hand. “You aren’t lying,” he said, breathlessly.

“Finally,” Hux sighed as he was wheeled out of sight of Ren, at long last. The soft hiss of the refresher door sliding shut was uniquely satisfying.

The Nan-E droid was washing the baby in the sink, which she seemed to be enjoying, her little limbs waving wildly, and making excited “eh, eh,” noises.

Hux could only hope that Ren would not still be in his rooms when he was done.

“Would you like me to reinsert the bacta device once you are clean again?” The medical droid asked as it sat him on his shower stool.

Hux really, _desperately_ hoped that Ren wouldn’t still be there when he was done.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short and decidedly unsweet.

Ren sat at the desk, given that the bed was not an option.

This was the first time that he had been in Hux’s room. There was a bed, a too-bright blue couch that clashed terribly with the black-and-red of the Finalizer, and a desk. It all seemed utilitarian at first glance, but the desk was real wood, with delicate, detailed engravings, and the couch clearly high-end. Simplistic, but sophisticated. The thing that stood out the most was the genuinely utilitarian cot, clearly welded together out of the spare parts from something.

It didn’t tell him very much about the man that he didn’t already know. He was a snob, and he was boring.

A cleaning droid had zoomed through the service entrance, the wall sliding aside easily to let it through to deal with Hux’s shit. As it removed the sheets and cleaned the mattress, he noticed that rather than the soft material that Kylo’s mattress was made of, it seemed to be a foam block covered in a thick, plastic cover. Probably to make it easy to clean, since he keeps ruining them. The movement of the droid attracted his eye, and he noticed the lumps of blood amongst the mess. His stomach churned.

This was _real_. He’d knocked up Hux, and now they had a baby.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Skywalker’s death. He was even _less_ sure how he felt about _this_.

On one level, he was excited. He realised that he could sense her through the door, even now. She exuded joy, loving the warm water and the attention of whoever was bathing her. She projected easily, and freely. And occasionally she would reach out and brush his mind, as though to check he was still there.

Something about the way that she instinctively reached for him shot through to his core and clutched at his heart. There was no other creature in the universe that felt that way towards him.

The thought of being able to raise her, shape her into the perfect companion, someone to rule by his side, was…

Well, it was many things.

Exhilarating. Terrifying.

Impossible.

The most important thing in the world.

He had no idea what to _do_ , though. He didn’t even have a _clue_ where to _start_. What did it take to raise a child?

And then there was _Hux._

Without a doubt, he would have to separated from her. The General would attempt to shape her into what _he_ wanted her to be, which would – he could confidently say – be a tool for his own advancement.

That wouldn’t happen under Ren’s watch.

The cleaning droid ran a few cleaning wipes over the already pristine surface of the plastic mattress cover, before neatly fitting a fresh sheet.

He didn’t want to kill Hux at the moment, at least. Even if he was a conniving, hateful cur who was currently unable to do much of anything, it seemed, without leaking from his arse.

Hux likely wouldn’t care at all that Kylo intended to take the child out of his hands anyway - would only think of the child as a distraction to his duties as a commander.

He sighed and sank back in Hux’s desk chair. This wasn’t what he had expected when Hux had rushed off after the battle of Crait. But the more he thought about it, the more that he liked the thought. Although, he wondered if Hux would ever sleep with him again after this. Perhaps if they used protection, now that they knew this could happen.

His daughter sent him a projection – the feeling of the warm water pouring over her belly, which delighted her. She was sharing the moment with him. He could feel a phantom rush of warmth across his abdomen, which tickled his skin lightly.

Screw protection. He loved taking Hux raw, and he’d only known he had a child for a few minutes, and he already wanted another one.

He reached out to the link she was forming with him, following it to her buzzing little mind, almost overwhelmed by the activity going on in her head. She let him in easily, a trusting creature, and he tried to give her a sense of what he was feeling – his joy, his excitement. His optimism for their future together.

She only had a tenuous grasp on the latter, but she was rapturous anyway, and through their connection he could hear her squealing, utterly entranced by her invisible companion.

He hadn’t even known that he wanted a child. He hadn’t known that this would touch him so deeply.

This link wasn’t crafted by Snoke. It wasn’t made to manipulate him, it wasn’t part of any other being’s grand scheme. She was simply his, and she loved him already.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, playing with his daughter along their connection in the force.

 

 

 

 

Ren was still there when Hux was wheeled out of the refresher, babe in arms and suckling lightly at his chest. The medi-droid wheeled him to the side of his freshly made bed. At least he was wearing pants, now, even if they were night pants.

“You’re still here,” he said flatly, as though Ren might take the hint and leave. No such luck.

“Yes,” Ren said, standing from the chair at Hux’s desk and stalking over to him. “And we have something to discuss.”

“No, really?” Hux said sarcastically, glancing down at the naked child in his arms. She looked back up at him, their eyes meeting for a moment.

“She’s mine,” And Ren’s tone brooked no argument. Not that he’d get any from Hux.

“Obviously,” Hux agreed.

“She will be moved to my room,” And he raised one arm, lifting the cot with the force and moving it towards the door.

“No!” Hux barked, before he’d even thought through his answer. The cot dropped, loudly clattering as it hit the ground.

“No?” Ren repeated, darkly, taking another step closer to loom over Hux.

Hux didn’t have much of an answer – he wasn’t sure what had inspired that.

“You would take her from me?” Ren went on, presence seeming to turn the whole room a few degrees cooler.

“ _You’re_ taking her from _me_ ,” Hux bit back, arms tightening around the baby. She had let go of the nipple now, and was wimpering, little face scrunched up in consternation.

“You’re upsetting her,” Ren said, brow furrowed, making his expression seem softer.

“ _You’re_ upsetting her!” And even to his own ears, he sounded childish, but even he could feel the anger radiating out of Kylo like ultraviolet light from a star, burning the pair where it touched them.

He was surprised when Kylo actually recoiled, taking a step back, presumably because he realised that Hux was _right_.

Kylo took a moment to inhale a deep breath, resolve hardening his eyes. He held out his arms. “Give her to me,” he commanded. “I will not ask again.”

“Why do you want to take her?” Hux asked instead, and Kylo’s expression shifted to determination. Hux could feel his arms moving of their own accord – or the Supreme Leader’s accord - delivering the child into Kylo’s arms as he bent to hold her.

“Why do _you_ want to _keep_ her?” Kylo said as he straightened, holding her securely.

Touché.

There was no answer he could give, so he remained silent. He supposed it was partly because Ren had clearly formed some sort of bond with the thing already, which was useful. It was a weakness in the man. He hadn’t given up on his desire to become the Supreme Leader himself, and any opening, any opportunity, he wanted to be able to exploit.

Perhaps, even, _she_ could be the thing that made him indispensable as he rebuilt his own forces amongst the Order. As long as he had some leverage over the Supreme Leader, he was largely untouchable, and he would be free to renew his engineering team, rebuild the internal structures and personnel whose loyalty to him was absolute. Things were shifting inside the Order, and if he were to have a place in it – and not just any place, but the highest he could possibly attain – he would need to press every advantage.

But he couldn’t say any of that.

Ren had turned, was walking out of the room, the cot floating behind him.

“Would you like me to assist you in moving to the bed?” Met-X5 asked.

The Nan-E droid seemed more sympathetic. “Don’t worry, sir,” it said kindly. “I will pump you and deliver her feeds to-“

_That was it._

“REN!” Hux yelled, admittedly a little louder than he had meant to. Ren stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“What?” he asked casually, though his stance made it clear that he was ready for a fight.

“I need to feed her,” Hux explained quickly. “There’s no formula on the ship! I’m the only food source she has!”

Ren stiffened, the cot lowering an inch. Got him! “Very well,” he said, shoulders drooping a little, as though a great weight were bearing down on him. “I will contact you when you are needed.”

And with that, Ren left.

The room suddenly felt very empty.

“Would you like me to assist you in moving to the bed?” Met-X5 repeated.

Hux turned his head to snap at the insolent droid, and was surprised when he found his throat swollen, and a choked sound escaped him instead.


	7. Chapter 7

Hux strode confidently onto the bridge.

His uniform was impeccable, his jodhpurs easily concealing the sanitary pad lining his undergarments (though he still felt the need to hide under his greatcoat, lest the damn things somehow become visible through them). The droid, Met-X5, had designed an additional bacta _device_ , which was similarly inappropriate, but at least the plug… Well, plugged him. He need not fear _anything happening_ while he was on shift.

His crew looked shocked to see him, alive, in one piece, and looking otherwise unharmed. He allowed his gaze to run over them, acknowledging them, before moving to take command.

Peavey ungratefully moved back to his post. Hux allowed a sliver of satisfaction to run through him at the man’s muted disquiet with his relegation to a subordinate position. Where he _belonged_.

“Sir,” Mitaka approached him, eyes bright and lips tugging up at the edges. “Welcome back!”

Hux raised an eyebrow at his lack of professionalism, but was admittedly indebted to the man for his constant reports - not only on the Order’s progress, but on the movements and machinations of his political enemies within the Order.

“Back to your station,” he said, though not sharply. The Lieutenant beamed at him (which Hux thought was inappropriate), but he didn’t say anything more as he went back to his monitor.

The _Finalizer_ was on a course to Perithal VI, a planet that housed what they believed to be the political headquarters of a brewing rebellion against the First Order’s takeover of several inner-rim and core worlds. It wasn’t the Resistance itself, simply the most advanced group of trade union federations, political leaders, and rabble-rousers that had rallied the greatest forces and caused the most problems for the Order’s project. They were very late to the game, and did not have anywhere near enough military might to stand up to the Order, but that wasn’t the risk that they posed. They were a potential inspiration to others, a spark that had to be snuffed out.

To crush them would send a much broader message to the other worlds who might be on the verge of rebelling.

They were on a precipice. This was the moment that decided their whole future – they would either succeed or fail based on their ability to maintain their control the worlds they’d taken. With what they’d taken, they controlled roughly one third of the galaxy’s food production, most of the significant mining operations that supplied ores vital to durasteel production, and a swathe of key industrial sectors that produced everything from kitchen appliances to advanced weaponry.

He glanced at his datapad, noting that they would not drop from hyperspace for another nine hours.

“Have the _Demolisher_ and the _Liberator_ responded to our summons yet?” He directed the question to Peavey.

“Yes, sir, but the _Liberator_ is unable to accompany us on this mission,” He responded stiffly.

Hux flinched. What could possibly be more important-?

“They have had trouble in the Pamorjal system – their ground troops have met considerable resistance from the local populace,” Peavey said, grave.

“How much resistance could a small mining and lumber colony pose to a Star Destroyer?” Hux’s fists clenched, leather groaning. “They could obliterate their headquarters from orbit if they’re that much trouble.”

“There _are_ no headquarters, sir,” Peavey replied, clearly reading reports as they were coming in. “It is a guerrilla war in dense jungle, and the mining operations are too delicate to simply destroy-“

“There is nothing more delicate than our present situation, Captain,” Hux moved to stand behind the man’s chair, leaning into his space. “Such insolence cannot be allowed to spread. For us to show weakness now would be more detrimental than losing a single outpost.”

Peavey shifted in his chair, obviously disagreeing, but unwilling to voice it. “Would you have us order them to accompany us?”He asked instead.

“Not immediately,” Hux considered their options, thought through who was in nearby systems that could assist. “Have them leave a few ships to cut off their supply lines, we can starve them. They have no proper agricultural industry, without their supply lines, they cannot feed themselves. Once they have that in hand, they should rendezvous with us.”

“Yes, sir,” Peavey said. “I will send them your orders.”

“And get a report from the _Perisher_ , find out what they can spare from their fleet,” satisfied that they would be sufficiently prepared with their forces, he walked back to his station, stopping at his standing desk –

He could feel milk leaking from his chest.

It wouldn’t be visible, his tunic was too thick, his greatcoat enough to cover him. It was, however, uncomfortable. It also seemed like a waste, given his trouble expressing.

He’d already allowed the Nan-E unit to pump him, taking two small bottles, in the hope that he would be _empty_ for his shift. He certainly didn’t have the time to stop and feed every two hours, but he also didn’t want Ren to catch onto the possibility that he could simply pass bottles of milk through the droid. Then he would have no reason to insert himself back into the picture. It was a dilemma.

Ren had been silent since he’d taken the child.

Once it had happened, Hux had realised that - given that the knight was now the Supreme Leader - he had no recourse. He had simply dressed, finished reading the reports from the various incursions, and jumped right back into his work.

It was better this way, for now. Ren was… Distracted, or off in his own little world, not interfering with their desperate bid to maintain their control of the world’s that they’d managed to take. Hux needed his wits about him at this moment, and he suspected that Ren’s presence would divert them from their most important tasks right now. The man had no idea of how the Order ran, no respect for its structures, or its goals.

He knew this was true, but it didn’t stop the stab of loneliness, of separation of some vital part of himself, that periodically stung his chest.

Like _now_ , for example.

He glanced around. No one would question him if he left the bridge now. He could contact them via his datapad, and there was nothing much to do for the next nine hours except scour the incoming reports from their fleet.

“You have the bridge,” He said quietly, before he could talk himself out of it.

Peavey shot him a wide-eyed look, shock emanating from him in waves.

“Yes, sir,” Peavey saluted, radiating satisfaction.

Hux nearly scoffed at the man’s insolence. He was usually better at hiding his satisfaction in taking over the bridge.

But there were more pressing matters to attend to. He swept through the door, leaving the command centre behind, taking long strides to quicken his pace to the quarters of the child-snatcher-in-chief.

His distress seemed to increase with each step closer he took. He kept increasing his stride, footfalls ringing across the halls, exponentially increasing the sense of loss, isolation, dread, _grief_.

He was nearly running by the time he reached Kylo Ren’s quarters, feeling sweat dripping down his forehead.

He depressed the chime, requesting entry.

He was surprised when the door slid open nearly immediately.

He was less surprised by the wailing child Ren held to his chest, wrapped in a poor excuse for a swaddle, though at least the fluffy black blanket looked warm.

“I’m here!” he cried, rushing forward to take her. Ren took a step back, holding Hux in place with the force.

“She’s hungry,” Ren explained, clutching her tiny form close to him, her little head perched on his shoulder as she cried. “You may feed her, with my supervision.”

Hux could barely process the words, barely think with the need to be near the baby.

“Hux?” Ren said slowly, peering at him more closely. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Give her to me,” Hux begged, eyes locked onto her tiny form.

Kylo seemed to be trying to see _through_ him, his eyebrows pinched together, but that was less important than the fact that he _still wasn’t handing over his baby_. He was even holding her _away_ , tucked to the shoulder furthest from him, holding up his other arm towards Hus as though to catch him should he rush Kylo.

“Hux,” Kylo said suddenly, sharply, snapping his fingers together with his free hand, the one held between them as a barrier. It brought Hux’s attention back to Kylo, rather than the baby. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

Kylo was withholding his own child from him, and he wanted to know how he _felt_ about it? He didn’t know what sick game the man was trying to play. He didn’t seem to have the processing power to grasp whatever this _madman’s_ intentions were.

“Hux, you don’t care about this child,” And Hux didn’t care for the way the man said his name as though he were calming a wild animal. But the sentence didn’t make sense – was this some jedi mind trick? How could he think he didn’t care-?

“ _Pfaask you, Ren_ ,” Hux hissed, struggling against his intangible bonds.

“ _She_ ’ _s_ doing this,” Kylo said softly, to himself, but Hux could hear him clear as day.

“Kylo _fething_ Ren, hand over my baby, or I will _fething_ kill you!”

He was ignoring him, now, attention focused on the bundle leaning against his shoulder. “You wanted mother, did you?”

_Mother_? Well, he’d deal with _that_ later. For now, he could feel Kylo’s control slip a little, mind letting go of the bonds a little as he examined the child. Whether it was intentional, or simply a side-effect of his shifted attention, Hux didn’t care. He seized his chance.

He let himself go still, feeling the last of Kylo’s magical hold on him slip, before he leapt.

The brute still caught him, hand around his neck to hold him at arm’s length away from him, but at least he was considerably closer now.

“Incredible,” he whispered, not even looking at Hux. “How did you melt his heart, sweet thing? He’s colder than Hoth.” The man smiled, seemingly oblivious to Hux’s reddening face as his air supply was cut off. “So powerful, already.”

“R- en,” He forced the words out through whitening lips, hands grasping weakly at the wrist in front of his throat.

Kylo let go, letting him fall to the ground, gasping. The only thing he could think about was the baby.

“Sit on the bed, and I will let you hold her,” Kylo said simply, looking amused as Hux rushed to comply.

He could feel himself shaking as Kylo approached him, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back ramrod straight, arms outstretched desperately.

He could hear his daughter making excited noises, her little almost-sounds filling the room.

At last, at long, _long_ last, was about to let him hold her in his arms –

But he stopped moments before Hux could take her weight, pulling back with a contemplative look on his face. “Take off your shirt,” He ordered.

Hux did so unthinkingly, letting his greatcoat fall from his shoulders and tossing his shirt aside. Kylo let his eyes follow the shirt as it crumpled on the ground, amused by it somehow. Then, _finally_ , he held let her hold him.

She was quick to start mouthing at him, and Hux arranged her so that she could reach him.

And it was at that moment that the fog - that he hadn't even realised was _there_ \- over his mind began to lift.

It was as though he had been in a dream, and was now waking up.

His head whipped around, taking in his now-wrinkled shirt on the floor, the child in his arms, the fact that he was in Kylo Ren’s room, the realisation that he had-

“I left the bridge,” He said disbelievingly.

“How unlike you,” Kylo smirked.

Hux looked up at him, bewildered. “I’m on shift,” He tried to explain, glancing down at the content infant before moving to stand up.

He was held down by Kylo’s hand on his shoulder. “They’ll survive without you,” He said simply, crossing his arms in front of himself and drinking in Hux’s confusion.

“That isn’t the point, Ren,” There seemed to be little point in explaining the intricacies of the Order’s internal politics to him, but that didn’t stop him from trying. “If I’m not there to oversee-“

Kylo had lifted an arm, palm open and facing towards him, and Hux’s mouth forcibly snapped shut. “Is that how you address your Supreme Leader?” He asked coldly.

And now Kylo didn’t need to use the force to silence Hux. It was true, he wouldn’t have _dreamed_ of talking to Snoke like this.

Somehow, he and Kylo seemed to constantly fall back into old habits. It was easy to forget the change in dynamic between them.

“My apologies,” He said quietly. “Supreme Leader.” There was no point in antagonising Ren now – not when it was Hux who was on the back foot, disoriented and powerless. Even his monomolecular blade was on the ground with his shirt, caught in his sleeve in his haste.

He ought to try and ingratiate himself to Ren a little, position himself more firmly, until he could rebuild a base of allies that he could rely on.

Ren nodded, seemingly satisfied, then – to his surprise – sat down beside him. He looked fondly at the nameless child’s face, attached to Hux, and let his hand fall over Hux’s thigh. It gripped him, gently.

_That_ was a development.

Hux didn’t let himself react, simply let the interaction go unacknowledged. He had to let Ren do what he liked, for now. Had to appease him.

“How are you healing?” Kylo asked unexpectedly. He was hardly known for his care or courtesy.

“Adequately,” Hux replied, trying not to think of his ruined backside. “The medical droid has seen to it that I am fit for duty.”

“Are you fit for _other_ activities?” And Kylo’s voice had deepened, suggestively.

_Oh, dear._

He really, really did not think that was possible, yet. It still hurt, even with the bacta, and the horrific consequences of his torn… cloe-something were being _managed_ , but yet to stop. He didn’t care to think of having anything inside of him, for at least a few _months_.

To add to his sudden discomfort, his daughter bit him particularly hard.

And Kylo’s face was suddenly very close to his. He kept his own face downcast, looking at the child’s face, meeting her eyes as she looked back up at him. Kylo’s breath brushed his ear as he leaned in close.

“I’m not sure,” Hux said quietly.

“And when _will_ you be sure?” And the new Supreme Leader didn’t bother to hide the derision or impatience from his voice.

“Ask me again after our current mission. I will be indisposed until we have dealt with this latest rebellion,” Hux said, perhaps too quickly. Even that seemed too soon to even consider taking anything inside him, but he couldn’t think of a better excuse to put it off.

Things were different, now. He couldn’t simply say “no,” and expect that to be the end of it.

With Snoke as a barrier between them, Kylo had never physically attacked him before.

That had changed on Crait.

And Kylo’s insistence on emphasising his new rank, and Hux’s subordinate position, didn’t leave him feeling confident.

He couldn’t predict what would happen next.

He ought to have never started this ludicrous liaison. The child in his arms kept looking up at him, eyes roaming over his face. _This was a mistake_.

Ren was mouthing at his fething neck, now. He tilted his head away, aware that there was little he could do or say at this point. The gesture served to give Ren more room, but at least Hux felt as though he were leaning away.

Ren’s hand was now running up and down his thigh, and the child was determinedly bashing her little fist against his chest, right above where she was suckling.

He could ignore it. He _could_. He could last long enough to feed her, then put his clothes back on, and return to the bridge. There were reports coming in every second, from every corner of the galaxy, that he needed to be on top of. Resistance could come from any sector. He couldn’t fall behind –

Ren bit his neck, whole body leaning into his hard enough to push him down, dislodging the child from him, until-

Until Ren was _pushed_ several feet away from him, suddenly, leaving the Supreme Leader sprawled at the head of the bed, eyes wide and locked on Hux. Hux stared back, child whining in his arms, mouthing at his arm as that was all that she could reach. He slowly sat back up, bringing the child back to her perch at his chest. She continued, happily.

Hux swallowed. “What was-“

“She doesn’t like being interrupted,” And thank kriffing stars, Ren didn’t appear angry. Just amused, still.

It took a moment for the panic to subside, and the words to sink in. He looked down in shock at the child in his arms. She wasn’t looking at him at the moment, her eyes were closed, focused totally on her meal.

She had pushed Ren aside.

_Thank you_ , he thought, though he couldn’t express such a sentiment aloud. She couldn’t understand, regardless. Hadn’t even realised what was happening around her.

Ren didn’t approach him again, seemingly content to sit at the head of the bed and stare, unnervingly, at them. Once she finished, Hux was quick to pass her back to Ren. He hurriedly redressed himself, first clipping the monomolecular blade holster to his wrist. He felt better with it attached to him.

As he adjusted his greatcoat on his shoulders, Ren spoke up, causing Hux to jolt in surprise.

“I suppose I won’t need to summon you when she’s hungry, then,” He said wryly.

It took Hux, who was still flustered, a moment to understand. Ah, the mind control. “Indeed,” he said gravely. “We’ll have to come up with a solution.”

“Why?” Kylo tilted his head, surprised. “This seems like a useful ability. And the more she does it, the stronger she will get with it.” He looked down at the child he held. “Best to start them young, right Anneke?”

_Anneke_? Of course Ren would name her after his _fething grandfather_. But he was in no position to argue, and more pressing matters were before them. “I cannot be… summoned away from the bridge mid-battle. What if she calls me away during a critical moment?”

Kylo seemed to actually consider this, thank his lucky stars. “Perhaps you’ll have to learn to resist her,” He said thoughtfully. “The more you resist her, the harder she’ll push, and the stronger she’ll get.”

_Well, that sounds a little awful put like that – teaching her to overcome my control_. But the idea of learning to resist a force user was a welcome one. “How does one resist being controlled by the force?” He asked carefully. It was doubtful that Ren would want him to learn such a skill, all things considered.

Ren waved a hand dismissively. “There’s no way to explain it in words you’d understand,” he said simply, and Hux couldn’t help but feel slighted. “But I can teach you.”

That… Would be useful. Not just against little… _Anneke_ , but against _any_ force user that might try to get into his head. “I would be willing to learn,” He said. “Now, if I may be dismissed, sir,” He straightened, resuming his rigid posture, hands clasped behind his back beneath his greatcoat. “I have duties to attend to on the bridge.”

Ren actually rolled his eyes, but nodded, attention diverting to his drowsy daughter. Hux glanced at her as well before he swept out of the room, catching her mid-yawn as she settled in Ren’s lap.

It was a relief to remove himself from the room, from the tension that permeated the air there. Ren seemed to be keen to pick up on their former intimacy, which could be useful to Hux, if he played his cards right. The utility of it didn’t make him less afraid, though.

He could push it to the back of his mind for now, however. He had a rebellion to crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter = Kylo POV


	8. Chapter 8

Ren couldn’t settle her.

She was screaming in such a way that he genuinely worried that she was in pain, except he could feel that she wasn’t.

She was just hungry, cold, and upset that she was with someone she didn’t recognise.

He didn’t want to call in Hux so soon after removing her from him, so he simply tried to calm her. There were several things that he could do – warm her, for one. He pulled a blanket from the bed to him with the force, then laying her on the floor to awkward swaddling her in the too-large sheet. Much of it hung down around his knees when he stood, but he could feel that it was helping her to warm up.

She had been interested in the change of view from the floor, which had resulted in her cries quieting, so Kylo tried showing her other things to distract her from her hunger.

He leaned her forward on one arm so that she straddled his forearm, head held up between his fingers. He placed his other hand on her back to secure her, and let her survey the room.

It worked. He could feel her little over-active mind ravenously taking in every detail, every feature, every little blinking light.

The simplest things fascinated her.

He brought her closer to the pedestal that housed Vader’s old helmet. She wiggled a hand loose from the loose wrappings and ran her chubby little fingers through the ash, delighted at the sensation. She grabbed a loose handful in a little fist, waving it around and spreading the ash of Kylo Ren’s enemies through the air, some of it landing on the floor.

He chuckled as she played, getting excited by the texture of the new things. She didn’t seem to get bored of grabbing little handfuls and tossing them about as much as she was able.

“You should know his legacy,” he said softly, watching as she spread ash over Vader’s helmet, watching it slide down the sides. An idea struck him. “Perhaps that’s what I should name you?”

She ignored him, too wrapped up in joyous act of tossing around the soft powder. But it seemed to fit, the name that had come to him.“Anneke,” whispered, and the name felt right on his lips.

The helmet offered no opinion. It simply sat and watched as his little girl, Anneke, fitfully splashed more grey powder over it, little hands struggling to grasp the slippery substance.

When Kylo decided that enough of the ash had been spread on his floor, he leaned her even closer to the helmet.

She touched a little hand to its surface, fingers grasping at it, but unable to find purchase on the smooth section she was touching. She tried hitting it with a flat palm instead, which she seemed to enjoy, before reaching lower again to play with the ash.

She didn’t like being taken away from that new toy, but Kylo was quick to swing her around to the next New Thing to look at. This time, he held her over the bed, letting her hit the pillows. She happily left little white handprints where the ash transferred onto the silk. This, too, was a very fun game.

They spent some time like that, exploring Kylo’s room, the Supreme Leader letting her hit and grab and throw things around the room. It was all going swimmingly until her hunger started to get stronger again, and she began to kick and fuss, sucking dolefully on her fingers, as though they might produce the milk she needed.

Kylo was quick to pull those from her mouth, and then wash her hands in the refresher. He didn’t think that you could get diseases from the ashes of the dead, but better to be safe than sorry.

She also didn’t terribly like getting cold water on her little hands, and was soon back to wailing as though the world were ending.

No amount of cooing or distractions seemed to be calming her this time, and he could feel her pushing out with her mind, searching for something. For _someone_.

Perhaps he ought to call Hux in. That was clearly who she was looking for – her giant, walking, talking milk bottle.

He was surprised when the door chime sounded, and Hux himself requested entry. _Speak of the devil…_

He used the force to open the door, unwilling to walk over to the controls.

Hux immediately rushed him, crying, “I’m here!”

Kylo stopped him mid-stride with the force, only feet away from himself. He clutched Anneke tighter to his chest, leaning her away so that his bulk stood between her and Hux.

“She’s hungry,” he explained. “You may feed her, with my supervision.”

Hux didn’t even respond, his eyes glazed over and locked on what he could see of the bundle over Kylo’s shoulder. Kylo waved his hand a little, but Hux’s eyes didn’t waver, still staring determinedly at little Anneke.

“… Hux? What’s wrong with you?”

“Give her to me,” Hux was wide-eyed, manic, and didn’t seem to be able to register Kylo’s words at all. The General’s whole world seemed to centre on the child Kylo was holding.

This was not the Hux that he had worked with for years. Hux was a good actor, but not this good –and there was simply zero possibility that Hux cared so much for a child that he would dare to disrespect or defy him. He had never seen Hux show so much as a sliver of affection for any living being, discounting brief snapshots during their sexual encounters – and even then, it was hardly affection, more a selfish desire to get off.

This was more than that, though. This was desperation.

“Hux,” he said, hoping that he sounded commanding, and that Hux would hear him through whatever haze he was trapped in. He needed Hux to articulate something other than ' _give me the baby'_ to diagnose his.. _. situation_. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

Hux’s face scrunched up at the question, the man still struggling against his force hold, but he didn’t answer. He simply continued fuming and struggling.

It was as though there were a different person in front of him. “Hux, you don’t care about this child,” he stated, knowing it was true. He didn’t think the man _capable_ of love.

“ _Pfaask you, Ren,_ ” Hux hissed, struggles doubling, as though he would ever be able to free himself from Kylo’s hold over him.

His daughter waved her arms urgently over his shoulder, and he realised that he could still feel her reaching out through the force for…

For _Hux_.

He could sense where her focus was, tethering Hux to her like a pet on a leash. She was sending him her own feelings – forcing him to feel her desire to be near him, to be held, to be fed.

He could feel his lips twitch into a smile.

“ _She’s_ doing this,” he could hardly believe it. Was he capable of this at such a young age?

Was he capable of this even _now_? Her control over Hux was so strong, he didn’t know that he’d be able to manage the same. He had enough trouble trying to break into Hux’s mind on a _good_ day, and here was a day-old newborn, already pulling off such feats.

Was it because Hux had _birthed_ her? Did they share some connection that she could exploit to control him?

... Had _he_ shared such a connection with _his_ mother, once upon a time?

“Kylo _fething_ Ren, hand over my baby, or I will _fething_ kill you!” Hux was still here, spitting hellfire and pushing against him. Anneke hiccoughed, still crying out for her food source. He couldn’t deny her anything, least of all after she’d demonstrated such incredible prowess in the force. “You wanted mother, did you?” He cooed at her, letting his grip on Hux slip a little.

The spell Hux was under was strong, and Kylo had to grab him by the neck before he could tackle Kylo to the ground.“Incredible,” he whispered, feeling along the force where she was connected to the General, whom he held at arm’s length. “How did you melt his heart, sweet thing? He’s colder than Hoth.”

Hux was spluttering in Kylo’s grip. His daughter whined pitifully as she continued to try and reach for him, not understanding why he was so close, but not coming to feed her. “So powerful, already,” He whispered, opting to put both of them out of their misery.

“R-en,” Hux choked, colour draining from his face. Kylo let him fall gracelessly to the ground.

“Sit on the bed, and I will let you hold her,” he said, unable to keep from smirking as the man leapt to obey, long limbs awkwardly springing him to the bed where he sat like a chastised school boy, spine rigidly straight, at attention.

He moved to pass the child to Hux, before realising he couldn’t feed her with his uniform covering him. Perhaps they should design a maternity uniform for the future…

“Take off your shirt,” he ordered abruptly, and once again, he couldn’t help but be amused by how the infamous _neat freak_ let his coat fall away, and wrestled his shirt off and allowed it to crumple on the floor. If he had been himself, he would have taken care to delicately fold everything. This was an indication of how far gone he was, of how deep Anneke’s control of him went.

Once Hux sat there, shirtless, Kylo passed Anneke into his arms.

Hux immediately moved her to suckle, and Kylo’s eyes were drawn to his slightly swollen chest. It was still quite flat, but a little round, and Kylo could picture wrapping a hand around the swell of a nipple and seeing milk seep out.

“I left the bridge,” Hux interrupted his thoughts, and Kylo saw that the glaze in his eyes had disappeared.

“How unlike you,” Kylo said, amusement evident. How much did Hux remember, or realise? Did he know what had happened to him?

“I’m on shift!” Hux said, looking to Kylo as though for answers. He glanced at the child before attempting to get up, but Kylo held him down. He ought to feed their daughter properly before running off, especially after she’d worked so hard to get him here.

“They’ll survive without you,” Kylo reassured him, crossing his arms as he stood over the pair. They painted a rather lovely picture, a very domestic image of a half-dressed Hux breastfeeding their baby daughter on his bed. He found that he rather liked it.

Of course, Hux had to ruin it. “That isn’t the point, Ren,” and Kylo knew he was about to go on some long rant about the Old Imperials and how they were after his position, he couldn’t show weakness, et cetera, et _cet_ era. He was in the Supreme Leader’s quarters, didn’t that trump whatever some small-minded Imperial officer _thought_ Hux should be doing?

“If I’m not there to oversee-“ Kylo had heard enough, and used the force to close Hux’s mouth.

“Is that how you address your Supreme Leader?” He asked coldly.

Hux seemed suitably cowed, gaze lowering in submission. “My apologies, Supreme Leader,” he said.

 _Good_. No more talk of leaving when he had business to attend to here.

Kylo sat down beside Hux, observing the feeding process. Their child was so small, she looked like a doll in Hux’s arms. She seemed to enjoy flexing her little fingers as she drank, and looking up at Hux’s face, taking in every little detail of him. A little milk was leaking from her lips to run in a little drop down her cheek.

He indulged the urge to put his hand on Hux’s leg, gratified that they had made her, that such a miracle could have fallen into their laps like this.

 _Gods_ , he wanted Hux right now. Wanted to _fill_ him, to spark another joyous little bright-spot in the force, have a sibling for her to grow with. His cock twitched, perking. Well, now was as good a time as _any_ to bring up their previous relationship – except Hux had appeared… Less-than-optimal, last he’d seen between his legs.

“How are you healing?” He asked, swallowing as he hardened. He could see a droplet of milk leak from Hux’s unoccupied nipple, and he had the sudden thought of what it would be like to lick it up, what it would taste like. How Hux might arch his back if he were to suck on it-

“Adequately,” Hux said coolly. “The medical droid has seen that I am fit for duty.”

“Are you fit for _other_ activities?” He leaned in, lips looking for Hux’s ear lobe. Hux loved it when Kyo nibbled his ear, licked the shell of it, as he took him.

“I’m not sure,” Hux was so quiet, but at this proximity, he was quite audible. Though his words weren’t particularly palatable.

“And when _will_ you be sure?” Hux was always chastising Kylo for not communicating clearly in the bedroom, and here he was, being vague. Armitage _be-an-adult-and-tell-me-what-you-want_ Hux, being an absolute _hypocrite_.

Hux shifted minutely, rushing his words, “Ask me again after our current mission, I will be indisposed until we have dealt with this latest rebellion.” And Kylo could honestly say that he had no idea what rebellion Hux was talking about, but he supposed it wasn’t surprising that the world’s the First Order was taking over might try and stop them. He was confident that it would not be a problem, or at least a problem for _other people_ to deal with.

Hux didn’t seem to be warming up to him, was lost in his head – perhaps he was shaken after having lost control to his daughter, wandering the ship under the influence of another mind. Hux prided himself so much on his total control, he wouldn’t be surprised if the man were sulking.

He decided to up the ante, knowing _just_ what Hux liked, how to arouse him. His lips ventured lower, finding his neck, the vulnerable points that felt like heaven when soft lips brushed over them. Hux leaned his head to the side, giving Kylo greater access, and he was quick to lick and suck what he could reach.

Hux hadn’t moved, in fact was quite stiff, but that was to be expected, given that he was still holding their daughter carefully to his chest.

He pushed Hux down, teeth cinching over a particularly sensitive spot, determined to get Hux to respond –

His head hit the wall above his bed, and he landed, sprawled, atop his pillows, several feet away from Hux.

His vision swum for a moment, and he gingerly sat up to as his eyes focused.

Hux was gaping at him, looking absolutely unnerved.

The child fussed, and Hux quickly rearranged her so that she could continue her feed. Kylo had a realisation.

“What was-“

“She doesn’t like being interrupted,” Kylo said aloud, heart beating wildly. He couldn’t stop the smile on his face if he’d wanted to. She was so strong, it was so instinctual, she wielded the force as though she had been trained, flinging him aside with a mere thought.

He couldn’t be prouder.

Hux was inspecting the child, face an unreadable mask. Surely he must have been impressed with her? Did he not realise how _incredible_ it was that she could _do_ such a thing? Or was Hux so used to Kylo’s powers, that he assumed they had manifested as such from birth?

… _Had_ Kylo’s powers been this strong as an infant? He had never asked Ben’s parents, and he couldn’t remember having been told any such thing…

And he could hardly ask them, now.

Kylo forced his thoughts away from that road. He didn’t need to get stuck in the past. He was here, now, with a child of his own, a powerful force user who would need guidance that only he could provide.

He let Hux finish feeding Anneke, watching them, thoughts drifting to what they might name the next one. Perhaps there would be twins? It was certainly in his genetics. He could only hope.

Hux was quick to pass the sated child back to him once he was done, and quicker to dress and ensure that he was presentable.

He had been unsure of what to do when he’d been alone with Anneke, unwilling to contact Hux again so soon after storming from his room with their child. It seemed that the matter had been resolved for him. “I suppose I won’t need to summon you when she’s hungry, then,” He noted.

Hux stared dumbly at him for a moment. Then he caught up to Kylo’s words, looking very serious. “Indeed… We’ll have to come up with a solution.”

 _That implied there was a problem_? “Why?” Kylo asked earnestly. “This seems like a useful ability. And the more she does it, the stronger she will get with it. Best to start them young, right Anneke?” He looked down at the child in question, and she reached for his hair as it fell to frame his face.

“I cannot be…” Hux paused to find a suitable word, “summoned away from the bridge mid-battle. What if she calls me away during a critical moment?”

 _Oh_. That _was_ a problem. “Perhaps you’ll have to learn to resist her?” he suggested, imagining his daughter exercising and developing her abilities by practicing on the hapless General. It warmed his heart, a little. “The more you resist her, the harder she’ll push, and the stronger she’ll get!”

Hux blanched, but still asked, “How does one resist being controlled by the force?” There was no way to explain to a force-null like Hux what it was like to enter someone’s head, or to resist the presence of another. Kylo wasn’t even sure that there was much that he could learn, being as null as he was. “There’s no way to explain it in words you’d understand,” he admitted, though he didn’t mind the thought of having Hux schedule some time for themselves, so added, “But I can teach you.”

Either he could, or he couldn’t – but he could have Hux to himself, alone, in a room for about half an hour if Hux actually scheduled a lesson (which he would, because he scheduled _everything_ ).

Hux considered this. “I would be willing to learn,” he said at last. Then his whole posture straightened, shedding the last of whatever anxiety had gripped him once he’d awoken from his daughter’s control. “Now, if I may be dismissed, sir,” he said in a painfully professional tone. As though he weren’t speaking to the father of his child, but rather a superior. “I have duties to attend to on the bridge.”

Kylo let himself scoff and roll his eyes. When did Hux _not_ have duties on the bridge? The man could read reports all day, every day, and never be satisfied. Not to mention the formality of the interaction was jarring. Were he not holding a baby in his arms, he would definitely be pinning Hux to his mattress and making a new one, yet Hux couldn’t let go of his cold, clinical persona even in his damn bedroom. But he let it slide, as Hux was already out the door, even if Kylo had wanted to mock him for it.

With Hux gone, Kylo was prepared to play with Anneke again, but she had already fallen asleep. She must have exhausted herself controlling the General like that, not to mention that impressive force push, and her full tummy was a final nail in the coffin for her ability to stay awake.

He gently eased her down to lie on the mattress beside him, gently stroking the dark hair on her head as she slept.


	9. Chapter 9

Ren had calmed down, lulled by the sleeping child next to him (and the quick wank in the refresher, assisted by the thought of running his tongue over Hux’s ever-so-slightly swollen chest).

Her mind was active even in sleep, newborn brain working to form neural connections at a dizzying pace. She was becoming accustomed to his rooms, he could feel, settling in to the new presence, and her mind gently brushed his even as she slept. Still just checking that daddy was there.

He was enamoured. She was powerful, she was tiny, she was helpless, she was his. He’d had no idea that he even wanted this, but now it was hard to imagine not wanting it, not yearning for it with every fibre of his being.

There had been a droid, he recalled, that Hux had in his rooms. Some form of caretaker, which presumably would have some idea of how to care for her properly when she woke up. Depending on how long she slept, she may be hungry again, and Kylo suspected Hux’s patience for their little feeding ritual would soon be growing thin.

He summoned his datapad to him with the force, unwilling to leave his daughter’s side. He rarely used the blasted thing, but desperate times, and all that.

He accessed the logs of the droids that had entered Hux’s rooms. It was useful, having no restrictions on his access to information within the First Order – being Supreme Leader had its perks. Before, he’d have had to use the force to pluck the information from some snivelling officer.

He found the unit – Nan-E3 – and ordered it to come to his rooms.

He hovered over Anneke as he waited, lying on his side and his head propped up on one arm as he watched over her.

The droid quietly came through the service entrance, wall panel slipping aside silently to allow it into the room. It beamed at the pair on the bed. “Sir!” It said in a stage whisper, careful not to wake the baby. “How is she?”

Ren gestured to it to come closer, and it obediently trundled over. “Fine,” Ren answered, voice low, “But I will require assistance to care for her.”

It was the sad reality that, no matter how much he might like the thought of locking himself in his rooms with his child, there were other things that demanded his attention. The Resistance, the lingering bond with the girl, Hux, and the First Order… He couldn’t be with her all the time, and he certainly couldn’t bring her into battle. Besides, there was much that he didn’t know about infant care, and he would need an instructor in the coming months. For example, he was aware that she had no diapers, no way to prevent her from messing herself and everything around her. That he could see being an issue in the _very_ near future.

“With what do you need assistance, sir?” And the droid was certainly a glass-half-full type, wasn’t it? It had a certain _bubbly_ energy that was a little irritating – like the hyperbolic cheer of a children’s holoshow host.

It seemed out of place amongst the First Order, but there was little time to dwell on such a peculiarity.

“We need supplies for her, most immediately something to prevent her from shitting all over the ship,” he said bluntly. No point in beating around the bush.

The droid was quick to find a solution, ordering for small sheets to be cut up and brought to the room. It showed Kylo how to wrap them to form a cloth diaper, careful not to wake the slumbering babe as it gently lifted her legs to place the sheet beneath her infinitesimally small hips.

He knew that he wouldn’t remember the process of wrapping it the first few times, but he was confident that it was a skill that he would learn quickly. He would certainly have plenty of practice, at any rate.

“You can choose whether to have them incinerated or cleaned for reuse once she soils them,” the droid said, indicating the neat wrap of cloth now covering Anneke’s loins. “I can arrange for a droid to be on standby to collect them.”

The droid ordered cleaning wipes as well, instructing Kylo on how to clean her each time she messed herself.

“Though you can teach her to use the refresher, I should mention,” it said, which had Kylo tilting his head as he tried to imagine how such a thing were possible.

“… By herself?” He asked, sounding stupid to his own ears, but having trouble interpreting the sentence any other way.

“No, no,” Nan-E3 corrected, a smile tugging at its lips that Kylo didn’t appreciate in the least. “But when you learn how she looks, acts, and sounds when she needs to relieve herself, you can simply hold her over the refresher when she needs to go. Accompanying the position of holding her over the bowl with a verbal and/or hand-signed command will form an association in her developing mind to relieve herself into the bowl.”

Kylo wasn’t certain that this was a real phenomenon – it reminded him of the time that Hux told him that he had taught his old cat, Millicent, to use the refresher. It just didn’t seem possible. Even after Hux had shown him a holo.

“We can deal with that later, however,” the droid went on, paying no heed to Kylo’s incredulity. “She will also need plenty of attention, speaking to and playing with her is ideal, and we can begin to teach her hand signs, as she will be able to sign before she will be able to speak. Though you shouldn’t expect her to start signing anytime soon!”

“She’s a single day old!” Kylo scoffed. “How can she be able to do any of these things?” She was a Skywalker, her aptitude with the force was unparalleled outside of their bloodline. In every other respect, however, she was a normal, (mostly) human infant.

“Precisely, sir,” Nan-E3 said excitedly. “She is a newborn, and as such, she is forming over one million new neural connections every second. How you interact with her over the next three years – and the next three months in particular – will shape her brain in very difficult to reverse, even _irreversible_ , ways.”

Kylo inhaled sharply. It was as though the air had been punched from his lungs, his limbs suddenly feeling quite cold despite the warm layers of his tunic and cloak.

“She is _malleable_ at this stage, and learning is what she is hard-wired to do,” the droid went on as though Kylo weren’t panicking. “Our job, then, is to teach.”

On one level it was good - he _did_ want to shape her development, her future - _their_ future _together_. He did want to mould her into his companion, confidant, his ally. On the other hand, it seemed like so much… Pressure. Within three months, he would already have done _things_ to her brain, her mind, and he felt like he needed more _time_ to learn how to do all of this _properly_.

A part of him wished that Hux were here, as logistics, planning, and preparation were all squarely in _his_ department. He quashed that part of himself, knowing that there was no stable, trustworthy ally down that road. A good lay, and a food source for Anneke, but hardly someone who would have his back should push come to shove. And hardly someone who should be influencing his child.

“I need to learn to be a father,” he said, more to himself than anyone.

Nan-E3, however, took it upon itself to answer. “That’s something I can teach, sir!”

Kylo didn’t quite have its confidence, but he’d mastered difficult tasks before – there was no way that this pathetic, too-happy droid would be a harder task-master than Snoke had been. In this, however, the stakes felt much higher.

He ran a finger down Anneke’s face, starting at her hairline and running down a bulbous cheek to her plump chin. “I won’t screw this up,” he promised her.

“ _Everyone_ does, sir,” the droid said brightly.

 

* * *

 

“Perithal VI is the clear priority,” Hux argued in a slightly raspy voice, his neck still aching from where Ren’s fingers had dug into it.

Colonel Rolph Ingham, Commander of the Liberator, dared to argue back. The tiny blue figure emanating from Peavey’s console on the Finalizer’s bridge didn’t make for a very imposing figure, though it was clear that the man was trying his best to appear authoritative. “It isn’t so simple as cutting their supply lines, sir, if we leave our fleet undefended, they have the capability to take down our-“

“And what about _our_ supply lines?” Hux interrupted, the icy chill of his tone rivalling that of Starkiller’s climate. “Perithal VI has been supplying Denon with material goods, intelligence and political support for those who oppose the First Order. Do you know where the Denon system is, Colonel?”

Ingham had the look of a man who’d been cornered. “Well…”

“ _Where_ is the Denon system, Colonel?” Hux sneered. There was something concerning in the man’s refusal to grasp the very simple point Hux was making… It was _suspicious_.

“It’s…” Ingham swallowed. His patience was worn threadbare.

“ _Answer your General, Ingham_!”

“It’s… At the crossroads of the Hydian Way and the Corellian Run, sir,” the man seemed to sag as the words escaped him, like air from a flat tire.

“And _why_ might that be more important than your current objective?” The General wasn’t above rubbing it in. Though he preferred to think of it as driving the point home.

“Well…” The man was rubbing the back of his neck like a cadet caught with a cigarette. _Pathetic_.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” His patience was beyond threadbare, now. It was utterly shredded. “Pamorjal’s primary export is _lumber_. Denon is at the intersection of two of the most important supply lines in the entire galaxy, and is an ecumenopolis which relies heavily on Perithal VI for _everything_. We can’t take Denon directly, but we can take its life support – which would you rather give up, if you were in my position?” He knew the look he was giving the Colonel now made the vacuum of space seem warm and inviting. “Perithal VI, or Pamorjal?”

Ingham was, at least, pale and contrite. “Pamorjal,” he said weakly.

“I agree,” Hux sniffed. “See to it that Pamorjal is made an example of, and once it has been purged of the majority of life, rendezvous with us at Perithal VI.”

“Yes, General.” He watched Ingham awkwardly salute him before the holo disappeared.

As soon as the holo flickered out, Hux wheeled on Peavey. “What was _that_ about?” he demanded.

Peavey looked unsure. “I couldn’t say, sir,” he said carefully. “Perithal VI is clearly a higher priority, I don’t know _what_ possessed the Colonel to argue against you.”

It was worth investigating. It was no secret that there was a _restructure_ underway within their ranks, and anyone with a shred of self-preservation was manoeuvring to take advantage.

Some more successfully than others, clearly. Whatever the Pamorjal system held for Ingham and his allies, it would have to be sacrificed. The broader interests of the First Order would not bend to the whims of an idiot like Ingham.

He moved back to his standing desk, pulling out his datapad to continue reading the slew of reports. Trouble in the Enoch system, largely under control (important, they manufactured starships); an easily-repressed population under control on Tomo-Reth (largely mining for rare minerals, though not the most productive mines in the galaxy); next door to that system, Norah, was posing greater difficulties in suppressing its population (but it was worth the resources, as their smelting facilities serviced not only Tomo-Reth’s mines, but ores from other worlds along both the Corellian Trade Spine, and the Rimmer Trade Route...)

He was distracted by the feeling of a little hand curling around his left index finger, clinging tightly.

He knew that it was only a thought, as he was holding his datapad in hand, and Anneke was locked up in Ren’s rooms. But the sensation of it persisted, and it was very hard to brush aside. Not least of all because it was accompanied by a sense of longing, for touch.

Hux knew that this was her meddling, but the emotions stirring in him didn’t feel any less real for it. His chest felt fit to burst, the desire to hold and cuddle overwhelming him in waves.

He clutched his datapad hard enough to turn his knuckles white, his eyes locked on a point in the middle distance as he fought the urge to leave and run to her again.

Steeling himself, he inputted a command into his datapad for the Nan-E unit to deliver the two expressed milk bottles to Ren’s rooms – hopefully that would be done quickly enough to sate her, and prevent her from distracting him again.

He would need to express again soon, it seemed, or else she would be demanding his attention in the middle of battle.

The Nan-E droid dutifully logged the order as “received”, and then, “in progress”. He planted his feet firmly on the bridge, determined to remain there long enough that Anneke could be fed, thus leaving his mind free to focus on his _real_ work.

It took twenty minutes, during which he was the least productive he had ever been in his life, for Ren to send him a message via the datapad.

‘ _You could have just sent bottles_?’ it read accusingly.

' _Yes_ ’, he replied succinctly. Ren didn’t respond, so he assumed that he was off the hook, for now.

But the sensations didn’t stop.

The desire to hold ( _be held_?), to cuddle ( _be_ _cuddled_?) kept clouding his mind, leaving him staring helplessly out of the viewport, unseeing of the starry vista.

“General,” a gentle voice nudged him from the vacuum of emotions not his own.

He turned his head sharply towards the source, Lieutenant Mitaka holding his mug of caf, though he seemed be unable to tear his eyes away from Hux’s collar.

Hux glanced down, wondering if he had perhaps leaked milk on himself somehow, that it were visible-

“What _happened_?” Mitaka whispered, taking a step closer so as not to be overheard.

“What?” Hux was confused, and not only because he had a determined little force user trying to drag him away from his reality.

“Your neck,” Mitaka said quietly, urgently.

 _Oh, fething_ hells _, Ren_. He could feel it, of course, the area of his neck bruising where Ren’s hand had crushed it. The brute was strong, he would give him that.

Hux glanced at the bridge, but everyone seemed to be focusing on their own consoles. He turned back to Mitaka and subtly leaned in to ask, “Is it bad?”

Mitaka nodded mutely, looking aghast. It was certainly unseemly, to disappear from the bridge and reappear looking as though one had been throttled half to death.

Hux sighed, taking a moment to lament his sorry existence. It was an embarrassment, yes. But it was hardly as though Ren’s temper wasn’t well known, or that members of his crew hadn’t already witnessed Ren assault him.

It was hard to concentrate on the implications of the public display of Ren’s treatment of him when his mind kept being forcibly dragged back to the desire to hold Anneke in his arms.

“Back to your station, Lieutenant,” Hux said as he thanklessly plucked the caf from the man’s hand.

Infuriatingly, Mitaka seemed to hesitate, his face broadcasting concern. Hux responded by turning and ignoring him, which seemed to set him right, and he resumed his duties as ordered.

 _Reports_. He needed to focus on the reports, to be up to date on each delicate situation unfolding on every planet and system that the First Order now openly commanded, to know what resources they had available at any given moment and where they were needed the most…

He couldn’t leave the bridge again. It was absurd. It was.

He could feel his control slipping.

In desperation, he messaged Ren on his datapad. He’d responded once, perhaps he would again. ‘ _Please distract her, I am busy_ ’.

Five minutes of grit teeth, white knuckles, and slipping control later, and his datapad flashed a notification. He pressed it, desperate to end this-

‘ _It’s no good; she’s not hungry, she wants you_.’

… Which was not what he wanted to hear.

Another notification. ‘ _Should I bring her to you?_ ’

 _Yes_!

‘ _NO_ ’, he typed back, summoning what dregs of control he had left inside of him. The crew were not aware of her, of what had happened; they could _not_ see him carrying a baby, _least_ of all one that looked like Ren. Not to mention that he wasn’t _married_ – he couldn’t be seen to have a baby associated with him, it was bad enough that _he_ was a bastard.

A plan formed in his mind, to prevent the unthinkable from happening (Ren barging onto the bridge and demanding he entertain their daughter in front of his bridge crew).

He made a video call to Ren, unhooking a pair of wireless earbuds from a slot in the side of the pad and putting them on. It wasn’t a holocall, simply a video feed from the small camera at the top of the pad.

Small miracles never ceased, Ren answered the call. Before the video feed had even appeared on the screen, the audio began – largely that of a screaming infant. A moment later, it was accompanied by a harried looking Ren, clearly holding the datapad in one hand, the other holding Anneke to his shoulder as she wailed, inconsolable. Ren was bouncing lightly, presumably to try and calm her (for all the good it seemed to be doing).

“She wants you,” were the first words out of Ren’s mouth, before Hux even had a chance to speak.

It was at that moment that Hux realised that he couldn’t directly speak about the child – he would have to speak out loud, but he couldn’t let it be known what was happening in front of the bridge.

“I am unable to attend, do you have a strategy for dealing with the situation?” He said carefully. There. He could do this, this double speak.

Ren seemed irritated by the question. “ _Yes_ , my strategy is to give her to you and let _you_ deal with this.”

“Impossible,” Hux said, though the sensation of desperation to be held seemed to be increasing again… Perhaps it was because she could hear his voice. “Let her see me,” he said, quietly.

“Bring her to the bridge?” Ren asked hopefully.

Hux closed his eyes and counted to five, willing himself not to snap. His crew would see something were amiss if he did, and the Supreme Leader would not appreciate it in the least. It was so hard, when a mind so much less mature than his own was pressing into his consciousness, sapping away his will.

“No,” He said slowly. “But you can show her to me via the video feed.”

Ren seemed to finally understand, sitting on the bed in his quarters and briefly putting the datapad down, leaving Hux with only a video feed of his ceiling. He could hear shuffling as Ren arranged himself and Anneke, and then the feed shifted again to reveal Ren sitting cross-legged on the bed with Anneke in his lap, laying on her front over one knee. She was still clearly upset, but the change in position seemed to interest her, and she was only whimpering, now.

The view shifted again, as Ren held the pad in front of his daughters face, filling Hux’s screen with her chubby little face pressed against Ren’s knee. Her eyes locked onto his image on the screen, and she made an excited little sound.

“Hello,” he said, before he could stop himself, before he remembered where he was.

Her arms flailed in her excitement, beating her tiny fists against Ren’s leg as she saw her favourite person. She reached out to the screen, a little hand obscuring the view momentarily as she tried to touch him, to hold him. She seemed frustrated when she couldn’t, soft whimpers returning.

“Speak to her,” Ren encouraged, though he sounded a little desperate. “I don’t know how much more crying I can take.”

“I can’t,” Hux said, glancing surreptitiously around to see if anyone were watching him too closely.

“It doesn’t have to be childish babble,” Ren begged. “Update me on the situation, if you must, just let her hear your damn voice so she doesn’t start _screaming_ again.”

So Hux did just that, reporting on the movement of their troops, the reports he’d been reading, the touch-and-go situation around Denon vis-à-vis Perithal VI, and the decision to sacrifice Pamorjal.

Anneke seemed to be hooked onto his every word, though he knew she couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. At the very least, his control over his own mind seemed to be coming back to him, the child’s desperate grip on his brain receding as she was lulled by his voice.

He spent the next half an hour updating Ren on events, even after Anneke had fallen asleep. Ren, pinned down by a sleeping infant whom he was afraid to wake again lest her incur her wrath, listened.

Ren even made suggestions (“Denon is in a trade war with Iseno, they’re already isolated and vulnerable – have we tried cutting a deal with Iseno to pressure Denon?”) and made approving comments (“Who the pfaask would prioritise _Pamorjal_ over Perithal VI?”), and Hux had never been more confident that Ren wasn’t a total waste of space.

The call ended when Hux received the seventeenth notification on his datapad of new reports coming in. “My apologies, Supreme Leader,” Hux said sincerely. “I have received reports on the situation at Perithal VI, and I must be up to date before we drop out of hyperspace.”

“Understood,” Ren said, stroking Anneke’s back lightly where she slumbered peacefully on his knee. “I will join you on the bridge when we arrive at Perithal.”

And Ren hung up before Hux could tell him not to bring Anneke. Gods, he hoped that Ren had enough sense not to bring an infant onto the bridge, especially as they might be entering a battle zone hot.

He opted to distract himself from such worries by throwing himself back into reports. They weren’t going to read themselves.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plots thicken - how many plot points can YOU spot?

The cramps were becoming unbearable. He didn’t fully understand why he was still having them; it almost felt like the contractions when he’d first gone into labour. He seriously doubted that another child would pop out of him, but it did feel alarmingly similar.

He was afraid that he would lose control of himself again - on the _bridge_ , no less - if this kept up.

He decided that he needed to go and remove the bacta plug so he could use the bathroom, so he might as well arrange to have it all _examined_ whilst there.

He went all the way back to his own rooms to do so, making sure to appear as though he had been summoned away rather than leaving the bridge for personal reasons. It didn’t get much more personal than _this_.

He ordered Met-X5 to meet him in his rooms on the way there, and the droid was dutifully floating outside his en suite refresher when Hux entered.

“How may I assist you today, sir?” It said, clearly giving him a once-over even without eyes.

“I need to relieve myself,” he said, his cheeks being tainted a light pink as he said so. “The bacta devices will have to be removed and replaced, but I would also like as assessment of the…” What to call it? “ _Damage_.”

“Understood, sir,” Met-X5 said, moving aside to gesture Hux through the door to the refresher. Hux quickly entered, the droid drifting in behind him.

 _It’s just a droid_ , he thought as he removed his coat and pulled down his jodhpurs. He sat over the bowl, and his fingers felt for the plug.

“Do you need assistance, sir?”

“I can do this myself!” Hux snapped. His fingers found purchase on the protrusion at the end of the plug, a small latex handle, and he carefully pulled.

He barely had to push, and everything came out in a rush.

He quickly passed the plug to the droid, and – out of morbid curiosity – glanced into the bowl.

Blood – a lot of it. Diarrhea. The damn bacta dildo floating on top. And it smelled _abhorrent_ , the stench hitting him all at once.

The blood clots were still numerous, some large, and just as unsettling as ever. Four to six weeks, the droid had said they would last. There was bright red blood mixed in, as well. It seemed like a lot, to him, but he wasn’t sure if that was normal, or not.

Hux cleaned himself, thankful for the luxury of the bidet as he did so. The smell seemed to remain, however.

He stood awkwardly when he was done, still damp, jodhpurs restricting the movement of his legs as they were wrapped around the top of his calves.

“Shall I inspect you now, General?” Met-X5 asked as it extended its endcoscope.

Hux nodded, “Yes,” and tried not to flinch when the droid placed a steadying arm on his hip and let its tentacle-like endoscope arm snake between his cheeks.

He could feel it flexing inside of him, testing his walls, rubbing against various spots, working its way deeper.

“Is there any pain, or discomfort, General?” The droid asked as it casually penetrated him.

“A little,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “It stings,” he glanced over his shoulder at the droid. “Should it be stinging?”

The droid was quite for a moment. “I included an anti-inflammatory agent in your custom bacta device, as well as hydrocortisone and pramoxine,” the droid moved the endoscope in him a little, as though searching. “So ideally, no, there should not be pain.”

Hux tried to ignore the slight increase of his own heartrate. “Is there something wrong, then?”

“I am checking – ah!” The droid seemed to perk up a little as the endoscope moved over something uncomfortable inside of him. “Haemorrhoids!”

Hux let out the breath he was holding. “ _Again_?!”

“It is likely due to the stress on your birth canal during labour,” The endoscope moved within him again, probing deeper once more. “I am satisfied that continued application of the bacta device will suffice as treatment.”

“What about… Other pains?” He couldn’t believe that he felt nervous about asking this of a droid. He was still of a mind that he was simply a _man_ , and that all of this was just some terrible misunderstanding, perhaps some medical experiment gone wrong. He knew better, but some part of his mind still rejected the idea that he had… _Whatever_ he had inside of him that allowed him to grow a fething child.

“What other pains?”

“Some sort of… Cramping, in my abdomen,” Hux struggled not to wring his hands.

“Ah, that could be your uterus shrinking back to its normal size,” Met-X5 said, and Hux could feel his whole body go rigid. “Try and relax, sir,” the droid said, as the ring of muscles of his hole interfered with the manoeuvring of the droid’s appendage.

He had put up with the droid talking about his _cloaca_ , but talk of a _uterus_ seemed to be taking it a little too far. Yes, he knew a foetus had grown to term inside of him. No, he had not thought terribly much about his internal anatomy outside of recovering from the horrific aftereffects of birth.

“I can’t believe this,” He rubbed the heel of his hands into his eyes, trying to rub away the ache that had settled in his head.

“It is perfectly normal after birth, sir,” the droid assured him.

“For _human_ births, you mean?” Hux sighed as he let his arms fall back to his sides.

“Well, yes, sir, those were the only readily available information packets on hand,” the droid said shortly. “As your species remains indeterminate, I can only rely on human birthing literature. And I might add that I have never overseen a birth prior to yours, and had to rely on datapackets downloaded during the ordeal. I am also learning about this process alongside you.”

… And that was the least comforting thing he’d ever heard. “You don’t even _know_ what’s _going on_ in me?!” He snarled, chest tightening as he thought of the blood in the bowl. How did the droid know how much was normal? What if it was normal for full humans, but he was in need of care? What if-

“You are experiencing things typical of those experienced by humans post-partum, and I am comfortable diagnosing you and prescribing treatments as per the guidelines of human care,” the droid corrected. “And I would have you note that no other medical droid on this ship has any experience with your situation, either.”

“Wonderful,” Hux said, wrapping his arms around himself. It didn’t matter if a lowly droid saw him hugging himself like a lost child. His own body was betraying him every day, and it was terrifying on some level. And no one could explain it or assist him through it, outside of a single medical droid with a penchant for creating torturous bacta devices - and even _it_ didn’t have a clue what was going on.

The droid’s appendage was still inside him, wiggling uncomfortably. He was becoming noticeably sorer as time went on, probably as a consequence of having ‘ _removed_ ’ the pain-killing bacta device. He hadn’t realised that it was also a pain-killer, and he _did_ appreciate that the droid had included such a feature.

The thought of his internal discomfort brought to mind another question.

“When can I, uh…” _Kriffing stars, spit it out_ , “engage in… Sexual activities again?”

The droid took a moment to consult some internal file. “Approximately six weeks is recommended before resuming penetrative sex,” it responded. “Longer if pain persists.”

Well, he could tell Kylo Ren that he was simply unable to indulge him for six weeks, on doctor’s orders.

“Though, of course, you can engage in non-penetrative sex, and as long as you are careful, there is no reason that you cannot reach orgasm with your penis.”

… Right. That was actually a useful idea, now that he thought about it. Tide Ren over with his mouth, keep him onside, with the additional benefit of it incurring exactly zero chance of him becoming pregnant again.

Thoughts of going down on Ren were interrupted by a chime from his datapad, unfortunately out of reach – it was in his greatcoat pocket, which was hung up next to the water shower, and he couldn’t move while the droid explored his insides.

“Pass me that, would you?” He commanded the droid, which slid out another arm to pluck the datapad from the pocket and hand it to him, while its other arm continued to probe.

Another missive from Ren – he unlocked the screen, and was greeted with a panicked message, ‘ _Hux she threw up her food is she dying?? Stupid nanny droid is on way to you to get more milk but need it now send back ASAP baby needs help_ ’.

Through the lack of punctuation, he took it to mean that she had thrown up, and Ren wanted the Nan-E unit back. Well, he didn’t have it. He looked to Met-X5 beside him, asking, “It’s normal for babies to throw up after feeding, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, quite normal.”

Ren was making much ado about nothing. At least he knew that the Nan-E unit would soon be here to help him pump more milk out. His chest was getting sore again, tender and swollen. He was actually quite keen to get the disgusting, yellow-y substance out of him.

That was another question, actually. “Is my milk supposed to be yellow?” He asked the droid.

“I am _trying_ to complete this procedure, sir,” the droid said in a clipped tone (and how _dare_ the droid chastise him?). “But yes, colostrum is produced in the first few days after birth, and it is typically yellow in appearance. It is to strengthen the infant’s immune system. Your milk will appear white after a few days, once you stop producing colostrum.”

There was so much that he was learning about his body, and it made him feel rather ill. It didn’t help that the droid’s bedside manner was deteriorating – it seemed to be sensitive to criticism, for one, and was entirely too comfortable in telling him off. Had it been human, he might have taken in for insubordination and had it sent for reconditioning (or spaced, if he’d felt particularly vindictive).

“You will address me with the respect due your General, droid,” Hux scolded it.

“Yes, sir,” The droid acknowledged. “My apologies, sir.”

“That’s bett- _OH_!” The droid’s appendage had suddenly breached something inside of him, something tender and untouched – it _hurt_ , and he had never felt it before, what _was_ -

“Sir, I have breached your cervix,” the droid said, and if Hux didn’t know better, he would say that Met-X5 sounded nervous. “It appears… There is more severe bleeding than I anticipated, and there appears to be foreign tissue still inside your womb. I believe it may be part of the afterbirth.”

His _cervix_. Good gods, what a _day_. He inhaled deeply, trying to get control of himself, before answering, “I don’t know what that - afterbirth - is.”

“The afterbirth includes some of the tissue inside the uterus that has kept your infant nourished during pregnancy, chiefly the placenta,” the droid explained, running its damn endoscope around inside his damn uterus. “I had pulled on the umbilical cord after the birth, but apparently I should have allowed the process to happen naturally, as I can see a trapped section of it still attached to the uterine wall.”

“What does that mean?” Hux demanded, adrenalin rushing through him. “Is it serious?”

“It will need to be removed, sir,” the droid said sheepishly. “I apologise for not realising this earlier, but the placenta should have been passed, and if it is not removed, it may cause an infection inside of you, and it has been bleeding, which poses an immediate risk to your health. Permission to remove it now, sir?”

He had just wanted to go to the bathroom.

“Do it,” he said sharply.

The droid did so, using its flexible endoscope arm to move inside of him in disturbing ways. He tried not to think too hard about what was happening.

A welcome distraction came in the form of the sound of his bedroom door opening. It must be the Nan-E unit here to finally pump him, as Ren had mentioned in his semi-delirious message. Once he’d been cleaned of post-birth filth and been pumped of colostrum, he’d be fit to return to his shift and deal with Perithal VI.

“I’m in the refresher,” he called out to the droid.

“Hux!” That wasn’t Nan-E3. _That_ was the Supreme Leader. He could now hear him stomping towards the refresher-

“Don’t come in!” He called out quickly, and was beyond thankful when the heavy footfalls did, indeed, stop.

“Our child!” Ren yelled through the door, panic evident in his shrill tone. “She’s-“

“Fine!” Hux shouted back, eyes watering at the sensation of tugging inside of him as the droid worked the damn placenta free. He could feel a thick liquid running from his hole, and he hoped beyond hope that it didn’t stain his jodhpurs. “Babies spit up constantly, it is nothing to be concerned about!”

Ren was quiet for a moment, and Hux tried to stifle his whimpers as the droid used its long appendage to pull the piece of the placenta free. It hurt, and it felt _wrong_ , and as the droid tugged it down out of his cervix, the pain was enough to have him gagging, the nausea overwhelming him. He could feel his body starting with the contractions, _again_.

“Are you _sure_ about that?” Ren asked timidly through the door.

He had to get his breathing under control, had to ensure that he didn’t vomit long enough to say his piece. “A-ask the damn Nan-E droid,” he choked out, hands squeezed into tight fists.

More liquid escaped him, and the smell worsened. _Don’t throw up_.

“Hux, are you _sick_?” Ren shouted through the door. “What if you made _her_ sick? You _idiot_ , she’s _vulnerable_! What are you infected with?!”

The droid tugged the offending tissue inside of him harshly, and he couldn’t stop himself from vomiting. He had nothing in his stomach, so all that came up was a rancid mixture of bile and stomach acid. The terrible gagging sounds echoed loudly in the room, and there was no way Ren hadn’t heard-

“You _are_ sick!” Ren cried. “What do you have?!”

“N-no, Ren, I’m…” He couldn’t quite get the sentence out, gagging again as the fetid smell increased as the droid pulled out something _slimy_ from him. “Hrrk-“

He wasn’t a religious man, but there was always the possibility that he had died, and this was _Hell_.

“I’m coming in!” Ren informed him testily, and Hux was barely able to stutter a syllable before the door flew open.

“Not _this_ again,” The Supreme Leader was cradling Anneke in both arms across his chest, and she seemed perfectly content. Ren seemed considerably less content, eyeing Hux’s situation with clear disgust.

The odour might have had something to do with that, admittedly. And the pool of vomit between his feet. And the blood running down his thighs from his hole, and the infected piece of placenta that the droid was now dropping into the refresher bowl.

It felt as though all of the fight in him had gone. He’d given birth, bled a lot, expressed breast milk, shat himself repeatedly, bled some more, been on shift for several hours, failed to eat a single meal since the day before (or the day before that?), had a possibly-infected placenta plucked out of his uterus sans-anaesthetic, was _still_ bleeding, and now it was all catching up to him.

His last thought before he fainted was, ‘ _I wish Ren hadn’t seen this’._

“Whoops,” Met-X5 hummed.

 

* * *

 

 

Hux woke gradually.

There was a moment of the most profound disorientation.

He struggled to open his eyes, the bright light sending a spear of agony through his skull. He groaned, lifting a hand to cover his eyes. The movement made him aware of something attached to the inside of his elbow – the shade from his hand allowed him to see that it was a drip, the needle dipping beneath his sickly pale skin.

Ah, yes. The procedure. Ren. The medical droid digging around inside him.

“Sir,” And there was another medical droid hovering near the foot of his bed. “Welcome back.”

“When are we due to arrive at Perithal VI?” Hux demanded, pushing himself up to a sitting position despite the dizziness that threatened to topple him again.

“We arrived two hours ago, sir.”

He was right, before. _This was Hell_.

“What is the situation on the ground? How are we faring in the – oh, pfaask it, explain it to me as we walk to the bridge!” He was pushing himself out of the bed now, pushing the droid away as it dared to try and keep him lying down. He tore the drip from his arm, which he regretted doing as it hurt rather a lot, but nothing could distract him from his return to his post.

“Please, sir, you required a blood transfusion,” it begged him. “You must rest!”

“I can rest when I’m _dead_!” He snarled, knowing that if he proved to be useless at such a key moment, he likely would be dead very soon.

He was only wearing the paper gown that was provided to patients in medical, so he marched over to the doctor’s lounge – startling two of the junior doctors who were seated there – and took a medic’s coat.

He wrapped it around himself as he swept from the room, storming out of the medical wing and into the halls. He had to get back to the bridge, ideally two hours ago.

He had forgotten how cold the halls of the Finalizer were, his bare feet freezing against the durasteel floor. The coat helped a little, but the pathetic gown beneath was as useless at shielding him from the environment as it was at covering his modesty.

The Stormtroopers he saw on the way to the bridge gave him a wide berth. He was sure that he painted quite the frightening picture to them in his current state, dishevelled and manic.

He made it to the bridge, breaths heaving, aware that he may be overexerting himself after apparently having suffered blood loss severe enough to require a transfusion. That mattered little in comparison to the fact that Peavey was on the other side of the door, acting as the commander of _his_ ship, overseeing the single most important battle to their organisation post-Starkiller.

He burst onto the bridge, causing several officers to jump and stare at him.

He took no notice of them. It wasn’t Peavey who was standing at the helm. The man was too tall, too thick, his hair making a mockery of First Order regulations.

“ _Ren_?!” Hux gasped.

The man turned, eyeing him over. “You’re awake,” he said casually.

“I – what’s the situation?” He came to stand beside Ren, who thankfully didn’t have Anneke with him. Hux assumed that she must be with the Nan-E droid.

“The situation is that you collapsed from blood loss and must return to the medical wing,” Ren dismissed him, not even making eye contact. He kept his focus instead on the readouts pouring in on a datapad he held in his hand.

Hux had never actually seen him _use_ one before. He was almost surprised the man knew how to.

“Ren, I – _Supreme Leader_ , I am perfectly capable-,” He began, but Ren raised a hand to silence him. He didn’t need to use the force, Hux knew better than to act defiant towards their leader in front of the crew.

“The situation here is under control,” Kylo spoke with such conviction that Hux almost wanted to believe him.

He glanced around at the officers, all of whom were very carefully not looking at him. He supposed that they had never seen him out of his uniform before, and his hair – though still tacky with pomade – was far from neat, sticking out from his head at odd angles.

“I can call for a droid to escort you back to medical,” Ren said simply, turning away from him to consult some reading appearing on a (suddenly very tense) officer’s screen.

“Supreme Leader, please, I must insist that I stay where I can be the most useful!” He tried, following Ren. “You need someone who is up to date on the situation-“

“You updated me on our call earlier, remember? Your thorough reporting has more than equipped me to handle the situation,” Ren said, the corners of his lips twitching as though he were suppressing a smile. Hux was stuck; that sounded too much like a compliment to _him_ , so there was nothing he could respond with. “And more reports have come in since you were admitted to medical, so you are no longer up to date.”

Hux gaped at him, tongue tripping over some counter argument. He could come up with nothing.

“ _I_ can take the General back, sir,” interrupted a small voice.

Both men turned on the man, Mitaka, who shrank a little under their shared glares.

“I- I can update him on the situation on the way, which may put his mind at ease,” The Lieutenant simpered, annoying Hux by directing his words at Kylo Ren. He understood why, of course, but it still chafed at his pride, being spoken about like an unruly child.

“That sounds reasonable,” Ren agreed, putting a hand on Hux’s shoulder and manhandling him towards Mitaka. “Go on, then. I don’t want to see you on the bridge again until you have recovered.”

“I _have_ recov-“

“Recovered means discharged by the droids and medical staff,” Ren corrected, smirking a little at Hux’s indignation.

“I will escort you to the medical wing now, sir,” Mitaka said with a waver in his voice, turning on a heel and leaving.

“Go with him,” Ren said, finally looking Hux in the eyes. “I have everything under control.”

Hux didn’t fully believe him, but there was nothing else for it. He had no ability to force himself onto the bridge against the direct order of the Supreme Leader, and he didn’t particularly care for his appearance in his current state. No need to humiliate himself further.

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” He said curtly. “I will remain abreast of the situation, and I expect to be summoned in the event of an emergency.”

Ren grunted, turning away from him to resume whatever it was he’d been doing.

Hux stared at his back for a moment, then finally swept out of the doors, nearly barrelling over Mitaka who was waiting for him in the hall.

He strode ahead of Mitaka, leaving the man scrambling to follow him through the halls.

“S-sir!” The Lieutenant stuttered, jogging to keep up with Hux’s long gait.

“ _What_?” Hux kept his eyes ahead, imagining all of the ways that he could kill Ren that wouldn’t implicate him in the death.

“You’re bleeding!”

Hux stopped suddenly, causing Mitaka to run into the back of him. The Lieutenant was quick to jump backwards, apologising profusely, but Hux ignored him.

“From where?” He asked cautiously.

“Th-there’s blood on your legs, sir,” He said sheepishly. “I… I couldn’t say from where…”

Hux nodded stiffly. “Well, there’s nothing that can be done right now,” he resumed walking, taking smaller steps this time. Now that he was aware of it, he could feel a thin rivulet running down the inside of his thigh, reaching his knee. “The sooner I am recovered, the better.”

“Sir, if I may ask…” Mitaka spoke in a hush, as though afraid of being overheard.

“You may _not_ , Lieutenant,” Hux snapped.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. The rivulet of blood had reached his ankle by the time the door to the medical bay slid open.

“You are dismissed, Lieutenant,” Hux said over his shoulder as he entered, leaving Mitaka standing in the hall. He glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of Mitaka giving him an unreadable look before the doors slid shut.

He was quick to return to his private room and get a droid to assist him, wiping away the blood, checking to make sure that the bleeding was normal this time (it was, just a little clot sliding down his leg), and had a new bacta device inserted into him. The droid, Met-X5, had improved upon its original design, having one single device rather than two separate ones. This one acted as a plug as well, and had an external harness to ensure that it didn’t slip out.

It looked like kinky lingerie, but the alternative was even more unthinkable, so he said nothing.

Instead, he let the droids fuss over him, ensuring that he ate (and it had been rather a while since he had done that, hadn’t it?), drank, reinserted a drip into his arm, gave him his datapad (after he threatened to escape again if they didn’t, Supreme Leader be damned) and allowed him to read reports from the ongoing battle.

He was surprised not only that was Ren capable of making considered decisions, but he _listened_ when Hux sent him advice and instructions via datapad. It made him feel better, to know that he was still a part of the proceedings, even if he wasn’t there physically.

The enemy included several trade union federations, but also smugglers whose links to political figures had fizzled out upon the First Order taking political control of the world. This meant that they felt that they had been cut out, that their position in the galaxy was being threatened. Ren had already cut them a deal to work with the First Order, and they were going to betray the trade union alliance in the coming hours. Once that had happened, it meant that the politicians and workers’ federations and sections of capital that opposed the First Order would be largely left without their main supply of weapons and back-door supply routes that would have been vital to their strategy against them.

Ren’s knowledge of various smuggler organisations on different worlds seemed to have served them in good stead.

But Ren still allowed Hux to give him input on the movement of their ships, their troops. Ren might be good at intimidation and interpersonal negotiations with smugglers, but Hux was the chief strategist when it came to large-scale battles. And there _were_ battles to be had, eliminating the starships that were deployed to attack their Star Destroyers. Ren relayed his orders, and Hux was pleased to see that everything was lining up as planned. The _Finalizer_ , the _Perisher_ , and the _Liberator_ – as well as their respective fleets which orbited the doomed world - were faring well, and Hux was confident that they would not require additional back-up to secure a stable situation on Perithal VI itself.

The _real_ battle would start when Denon sent in assistance, but the deal that they were in the process of negotiation with Iseno would greatly undermine Denon’s efforts, assuming that it all went according to plan.

Hux didn’t even mind terribly when the Nan-E droid came in with Anneke, and insisted that he feed her. She was quite upset, having woken alone but for the droid, and hungry to boot. She settled once she was in his arms, and he had the droid relay his instructions on the datapad as he fed her.

At least he didn’t have to do _this_ on the bridge.

The battle lasted for fourteen hours.

Nine hours in, the smugglers had acted true to their word (never a guarantee) and turned on their own side, leaving the Federated Alliance entirely vulnerable. From there, it had largely been crowd control. The political leadership of the resistors were on the run, fired on from all sides, whilst the population that they had been at the head of were left leaderless. It ensured that each strike by workers, each protest (no matter how many thousands attended), each rising of the domestic troops in barracks all over Perithal VI, were left isolated and without direction. They made easy targets for battalions of Stormtroopers. Given that they couldn’t coordinate between themselves, they were left at the mercy of the First Order. They were quick to discover that the First Order had none.

He had fed Anneke several times, and she largely slept between feeds, but there had been two stretches of time in which she had demanded to be played with. She had made a monumental racket when he had failed to obey, so he had instructed the droid to take her to another room and find something to entertain her. He had a battle to oversee.

She had cried the entire time that she wasn’t with him... But she would learn. He couldn’t acquiesce to every whim that flitted through her head, and there would be times wherein he would be unable to tend to her at all, likely for _days_. Better that she learn that now. Once there was a supply of formula, for example, he would have a much greater degree of freedom to act as a commander, rather than as a parent.

It was funny. He hadn’t really thought of himself as a ‘ _parent_ ’ until that moment.

“Please, sir, I really must insist that you take her,” The droid was barging in again, still trapped in a futile struggle to get him to waste time playing with a baby while Perithal lay vulnerable below them.

“And _I_ must insist that you leave my room and let me work in peace,” Hux said snidely back, having to raise his voice to be heard over the wailing of Anneke’s little lungs.

“That _is_ your work, now,” Came a much deeper voice, and Hux’s gaze snapped to the doorway, where the Supreme Leader stood silhouetted by the bright lights of the medical bay behind him.

“I beg your pardon?” Hux was taken aback. “Why aren’t you on the bridge? The battle-“

“Is in a lull. There are no hostile starships left to worry about, the issue is troop movements on the ground. There is nothing that cannot be done here just as easily as on the bridge, for now,” Ren said, crossing the threshold and moving to take Anneke from the droid. She seemed to settle a little, but she was still making the most heart-breaking faces, lower lip trembling.

Ren moved towards him, his trademark looming presence leaning over him menacingly as he pushed Anneke into Hux’s arms.

Anneke immediately grabbed at Hux’s face, getting a firm grip on his lower lip.

“Much better,” Ren said approvingly.

“Wen, h-“ Hux pulled her little hand away from his face. “Ren, how long do you think this _lull_ will last? Denon is only two hours away at light speed, do you think that they aren’t already preparing ships to take us on? It’s a miracle that they haven’t already sent backup, but any moment now, we could be seeing ships appearing in orbit around us. How can you walk away from the bridge at such a critical-“

“I have already been in communication with the ruling government on Denon,” Ren interrupted him. “They are willing to allow the First Order to take Perithal, on the condition that we make no move on Denon’s space.”

“Then they’re idiots, or they’re _liars_ ,” Hux adjusted Anneke, pushing her away from him a little as she tried to grab his face again. “They must know that taking Perithal is a step towards taking Denon, and if they don’t act now, they are allowing us to move forward in that goal.”

“They _are_ idiots,” Ren said, leaning down so that Anneke could grab his finger. “It’s their fear that has made them stupid. They don’t think that they can take on the might of the First Order.”

“ _Or_ they’re very good actors, and they are waiting until we least expect, or are the most vulnerable, to attack,” Hux said, watching Anneke wave Ren’s finger around in her little fist. “How do we know that they aren’t also in the process of dealing with the smuggling ring from Perithal? Those _turncoats_ have betrayed one ally already, we can hardly-“

“ _Shh_ ,” Ren shushed him – he shushed him! “Calm down, you might stress Anneke.”

“I imagine she’ll be more stressed if we’re shot out of the sky, _Ren_ ,” Hux was losing his temper, just a little.

Ren glared at him, then, and Hux could see that the man was truly _angry_ about something. He pulled his finger free of Anneke’s tight grip and rose to his full height, clearly an intimidation tactic.

“What is it?” Hux said cautiously.

“I received a report from your droid,” he said, nodding his head towards the unrepentant Nan-E3. “That you were _ignoring_ our daughter.”

“For the sake of keeping her safe,” Hux argued back, clutching Anneke to his chest as though to use her as a shield.

“The battle-“

“Was under control. _My_ control,” Ren said, his calm tone belied by the tension in his shoulders, the visible veins of his neck. “Whereas my daughter was left to cry in the care of a droid whilst her mother _ignored_ her.”

“ _Mother_ , Ren? Really?” Hux scoffed.

Ren was unamused, lifting a finger and letting Hux choke for a moment.

Suitably humbled, Hux withered. “She was well looked after,” he reasoned.

Ren’s nostrils flared, his eyes flashing with rage. This was _not_ ideal. Hux held Anneke up a little, as though she could save him.

“You cannot leave our daughter to _cry_ for _hours_ in the care of _droids_ ,” He snarled, spittle flying from his lips. “If she wants you, then you _must_ accommodate her.”

Hux couldn’t believe his ears. Where the fething hells was _this_ coming from? “Ren- Supreme Leader,” he amended. “It is simply impossible for us to accommodate her every desire. There will be times – such as in _battle_ – that we _cannot_ be there for her. Surely you can-“

“I will _not_ abandon her,” And Ren sounded so serious, as though leaving his daughter to cry for an hour was some great _travesty_ , rather than a necessary part of their role.

“We are _leaders_ , Ren, we can’t just drop everything to appease an _infant_. She won’t even remember that we-“

Ren backhanded him across the face, hard, causing him to fall heavily on his side. He held Anneke to his chest to ensure that he wouldn’t drop her. So much for his human shield, then. He lay where he fell, infant clutched to him, afraid that Ren might attack again if he tried to sit up.

“She _will_ remember,” Ren said darkly. “She is making a _million_ neural connections every second,” and Hux wondered where he’d picked up _that_ tidbit of information, “and she is being shaped by our every interaction with her. That includes when you _refuse_ to interact with her, or foist her on _droids_ as though she isn’t _wanted_.”

Hux managed to avoid saying that she _hadn_ ’t been wanted, which probably saved his life.

… _Clearly_ the Supreme Leader had some issues with this that he had never resolved. Some fear of abandonment, perhaps, or mother issues, or what have you. Hux wouldn’t be surprised, given who his mother was.

He tried a different tactic, refusing to back down and accept the role of ‘ _mother_ ’ in the place of his _rightful_ role as commander of the Finalizer and General of the First Order.

“Ren, please understand,” he said gently, obsequiously. “There is _nothing_ I want more than for our daughter to be safe.”

Ren raised an eyebrow at him, apparently unconvinced.

Hux barrelled on, too invested in maintaining his position to worry about Ren’s trust issues. “The _only_ way to make her safe is to ensure that the First Order succeeds in its goals. If we fail, she will die with us.”

Ren glared at him. “Why not do _both_? You are in a bed, outside of the bridge; you could hold her and send orders simultaneously.”

“It isn’t that _simple_ , and besides, I’m not going to be in this bed _forever_ , Ren,” And he didn’t like the look that the man gave him then, as though Ren seemed to seriously consider the idea of having him do exactly that. “I _will_ be needed on the bridge, and there _cannot_ be an infant there. She will _have_ to become accustomed to the care of droids.”

Ren looked as though he were considering slapping him again.

Hux scrambled for another argument. “I was raised largely by droids!” He said quickly, “And I turned out fine!”

He should have expected the bark of laughter from Ren at that announcement. Though the Supreme Leader didn’t look at all amused when he turned his furious gaze back on him. That was a _sensitive subject_ for him right now.

“Is that your mouth, or your _cloaca_?” Ren said venomously. “I can't tell, they're both _spouting shit_.”

Hux felt a hand go to his chest, mouth dropping open. “You did _not_ just say that to me,” he said in a low voice, eyes hardening to stone despite the threatening aura emanating from Ren. 

“Would you like me to repeat it?” Ren asked with false congeniality.

Their argument was postponed when Ren received an alert from his datapad.

“Blasted thing…” he muttered, unlocking it. “I am needed on the bridge,” Ren tucked the pad back into his belt. “You are needed here, with Anneke. You will look after her, appease her, and if you _don_ ’t, I _will_ hear about it.” He pinned Hux with a glower that promised unspeakable pain. “And there will be _consquences_.”

And he swept out of the room, leaving him alone with the infant and the treacherous droid.

“I’m going to have you smelted,” He informed it as he pushed himself back up, adjusting Anneke in his arms.

“It was worth it, sir,” Nan-E3 responded lightly.

“Hu!” Anneke huffed, grabbing his lip again as it came back within her reach.

Perhaps he should have spaced her, after all. 


	11. Chapter 11

He could barely see through his rage.

He couldn’t pinpoint what it was about the interaction that had set him off. He hadn’t thought that he wanted Hux to be involved with Anneke, but he could feel, in her juvenile mind, her absolute adoration for the man. She wouldn’t allow herself to be parted from him. So now the alternative – letting Hux’s fear of her powers cause him to push her away – seemed _worse_.

Hux was going to throw all of her love and devotion away because of his pathetic _fear_ of her. Throw her to droids to deal with, as though she were defective, all because _he_ was too cowardly to deal with it. He had felt it – Hux’s fear when he had pushed their child into his arms.

It connected with something deep inside of him, a hidden well of resentment.

He stopped, suddenly, a familiar sensation washing over him. It couldn’t be-

The scavenger girl stood before him, their bond singing with tension.

“Ben,” She said sternly, shoulders squared as though she were trying to look larger. It was almost pitiful. Almost endearing.

“ _You_ ,” he spat back. This was the _last_ thing he needed today. They’d made no progress on destroying the Resistance, therefore there was no progress in bringing her closer to him.

“What are you doing on Perithal VI?” She demanded. Straight to the point, at least.

“The same thing we’re doing on every other First Order controlled planet,” He shot her a devilish grin that held no warmth. “Establishing _order_.”

She looked away, lips pursed and shaking her head minutely. He could feel her disgust. “Snoke is gone, you know,” She tried, her eyes flicking back to search his. Whatever she was looking for, he doubted that she would find it.

“I know,” He said. “I killed him.”

She took a cautious step closer, desperate to connect, to reach him. “You can start to _heal_ now; now that he’s gone.” Her tone was tender, now.

She appeared so soft, so open to him, in this moment. But he knew from experience that she couldn’t be turned whilst the Resistance scum still lived and breathed, so he dared not raise his hopes just yet.

“Maybe it’s time that you accepted that I’m not under Snoke’s control. I’m under no one’s control but my own.”

She shook her head, staring right through him, peering into his core. “No, I thought that before, too,” She said gently. “But you’re carrying him with you, still. All of the anger that you hold inside of you, so much of it is from him. Have you even started to process it at _all_?”

He could feel himself going rigid, teeth grinding. “He’s _dead_!”

“No one’s ever really gone,” Rey said sadly, and what, was she channelling Leia, now? “They leave their imprint on us – for better, or for worse.”

“I am _beyond_ him, now, stronger than he was-“

“Do you even know how deep the scars he gave you went?” She spoke over him.

“He is in the past, alongside Ben, alongside H _an_ ,” and he ignored the way his voice broke on Han’s name.

“Do you even know what you want, versus what he told you to want? We _both_ know that you didn’t want to kill your father!”

“ _Stop_!” He refused to react physically, but her words alarmed him, for he felt that they held a grain of truth.

She took advantage of his silence, pressing on, “There’s a long road ahead of you, Ben Solo… But if you choose the right path,” She smiled at him, now, though her eyes held pain. It was so like his mother’s smile. “We’ll be waiting for you at the end of it.”

“I choose my own path,” He replied, heart in his throat.

“I know you will, Ben.”

“You can still leave the Resistance, you know,” He said despondently.

“You can still leave the First Order, you know,” She responded without a moment’s hesitation. Another pained smile, “Your mother misses you.”

He blinked, and she was gone.

He was left feeling hollowed out, empty.

He returned to the bridge. There was much to be done.

 

* * *

 

 

“You should try and play with her, sir,” Nan-E3 said, making silly faces at the child in his arms. It did little to ease her wailing.

“Who is the leader here, and who is the expendable droid?” He said hotly, pulling the child a little away from the droid by his bedside. The interminable, obnoxious cries of the child did nothing to improve his foul mood.

The droid took no notice of the threat. Its programming commanded it to prioritise the wellbeing of its charge, even above its own life. “I have ordered toys to be made, but they are low on the priority list for manufacturing, and she really needs _interaction_ , anyway,” It explained, trying to lean over Hux to keep making faces at the child.

Hux huffed, pride still smarting from Kylo fething Ren’s little _fit_.

It wasn’t as though he were _abandoning_ anyone. Hadn’t he done the same thing that _Ren_ had done, when he’d gone to the bridge whilst Hux was recovering? Did he really expect him to take time out of his duties as a General, just because he’d been waylaid by a careless droid’s inattention? If he _could_ participate in the running of their fleet, then he _would_.

Anneke would just have to wait.

But that, apparently, wasn’t going to be an argument that he could win, at least for now. There had seemed a moment wherein there had been a _real_ risk that Ren might demote him, pass his position along to Peavey, or Thannison, or whomsoever the Supreme Leader thought suitable at any given moment.

Hell, the man would probably promote a petty officer, _just_ to annoy Hux. That would be more of a slap in the face than the bruise currently blossoming across his cheek.

“Sir, please,” Nan-E3 begged.

The sounds Anneke was making really were getting on his nerves, so he reluctantly held her out to the droid. “As long as you can make it stop.”

The droid didn’t help its case when it shook its head. “No, sir, you should do it. You will have to learn to calm her. The Supreme Leader has ordered it.”

 _Pfaasking Ren…_ “Well, what am I to _do_?” He snapped, trying to rock her lightly. “She won’t feed, so what else is there?”

“Lift her up,” The droid instructed, assisting him in holding her out in front of him, facing away from him. “Tuck her arms across her chest and hold them in place with your thumb.”

The droid helped him, holding her arms across her tiny torso so that Hux could move his hand into position – one hand on her torso, one under her cloth diaper to help hold her up. His hand was large enough that she could sit in his hand, and his fingers still ran up her back.

“Now, hold her at a forty-five degree angle,” And it observed Hux leaning her forward a little, though he worried about her head, holding it between his ring and index finger on the hand she was leaning on.

“Now, gently rock her.”

Hux did so, bobbing her up and down, then side to side, then in little circles.

“She’s stopped crying!” He gasped, looking to the droid as though for confirmation. The sudden relief in his head was all the confirmation that he needed, but he wasn’t sure how this was possible.

“It is theorised that this position and movement mimics the feel of being in the womb,” Nan-E3 explained, beaming with pride at the General’s small achievement. “Although I suspect that the ability to see the room also helps distract from her woes.”

And she _did_ appear to be looking around, taking in her surroundings. Hux pulled her close to his chest, still at an angle and rocking her in a circular motion, but close enough that he could lean his head forward and see her little eyes darting around the room.

“What do you see, Anneke?” Nan-E3 asked amicably.

She glanced at the droid, before continuing to look around the room.

“How long do I have to do this for?” He asked, already noting that his arms were becoming tired. “Will she start crying again if I lie her down?”

“You could try laying her on the bed next to you,” Nan-E3 suggested. “That way you can use your hands to play with her. Tickle her, play peek-a-boo, or simply let her try and grab at them.”

Well, it seemed that there was nothing else for it. He shuffled closer to the side of the bed, suddenly thankful for his slim frame on the narrow cot. He lay her down, on her back, and settled on his side next to her, head propped up on one arm. Her face twisted in preparation for another tantrum, and he was quick to hold a hand over her and wiggle his fingers.

Her face softened as she saw the movement, hands grasping at his.

“Sir,” Nan-E3 said gently. “This is fine for now, but the recommendation is that you rest the child on their back to sleep, and lay them on their tummy to play.”

Annoyed, Hux ignored it, although he did try and remember that for the future. _Tummy play, back sleep_.

He let her catch one of his fingers, and she immediately pulled it towards her mouth.

“When will I be discharged from the medical bay?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of Anneke. She chewed on his finger idly, seemingly fascinated by the taste and texture.

“When the medical droids have ensured that you have enough fluids, and when they are confident that you will not starve yourself again,” Nan-E3 reported happily. Hux _did_ turn at that, staring at the droid.

“I don’t starve myself,” he said flatly.

The droid tilted its head, curiously. “Can you estimate the number of calories that you have ingested on average over the last three days?”

As infantilising as it sounded, it was a clearly posed as a serious question, so Hux seriously considered it. He knew that the average recommended intake was two-thousand calories, and he knew that he was under that, so… “Eighteen-hundred calories?” He lied. He could probably get away with that, satisfy the droid.

The droid regarded him with a perplexed expression. “Do you know how many calories are in the average ration bar?” It asked him carefully.

“Two hundred,” he answered confidently. “But in the field, we provide six-hundred-calorie bars.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Nan-E3 said, optics dimming as it accessed some internal log. “And you have been eating the two hundred calorie bars.”

Wait, how did the droid know-? Oh, _pfaask_.

“I took the liberty of accessing the records of you orders whilst you were being treated,” the droid explained.

Hux was trying very hard to glare a hole into it. “Of _course_ you did,” He should have expected this. Was he ever to have control over his own choices, his own body, ever again? Between the Supreme Leader and two overbearing droids, it didn’t seem likely.

“You have had, on average, two hundred calories per day,” it said gravely. “And very little in the way of fluids, especially water. No wonder your milk production is so low.”

“I have no appetite when I’m under duress,” he spat at it. “And I’ve had caf, so-“

“Caf is _worse_!” The droid cried, hands leaping to either side of its face. “It dehydrates you! Increases urination-“

“I don’t care,” Hux stopped it mid-spiel. “It is no one else’s business what I eat. I’ve been this way for years, and it’s never-“

“Been a problem until _now_ ,” The droid interrupted him – _interrupted him_!

In his _own_ damn medical bay, on his _own damn ship_ , in an organisation that _he_ had built, he was being lecture by a _droid_.

“I don’t need to hear any more,” He turned away from the droid, looking back down at Anneke. She was still suckling on his finger, sometimes using her free hand to bat at his other fingers.

“I’m afraid that you do, sir,” Nan-E3 said pointedly. “Your wellbeing is currently directly related to Anneke’s.”

That was the crux of it, then. The blasted thing cared about him as far as his utility as a life-support device for the creature he’d unknowingly given life to. Never mind his rank, his role, his achievements. Never mind his qualifications, his – his – _identity_ , his –

“I cannot allow you to continue to harm yourself in this way,” The karking droid admonished sternly.

“You have _no_ _right_ ,” He snarled, pulling his hand away from Anneke so that he could roll off the bed to stand over the droid.

“The right has been invested in me by the Supreme Leader,” the droid stood firm, remorseless gaze defiantly meeting Hux’s blazing hatred. “I am beginning to suspect that you have an eating disorder-“

“How _DARE_ you-“

“- And I will update your records to show this, to ensure the best possible care during your stay,” It had that far-away look for a moment, and he moved his hand to destroy it before it could update-

But he was wearing a medical gown, not his uniform. His monomolecular blade was nowhere to be found. Instead, his hand rebounded harmlessly off the droid’s face, central processing unit in its head humming away without a hitch. His hand, however, throbbed where it had impacted the droid.

“Please refrain from fighting me, sir,” it chastised him. “I am only looking out for your best interests, and that of your daughter’s.”

Hux was ready to pull the droid apart with his own hands, when the door hissed open.

He turned, afraid that Kylo Ren was back to punish him for his transgressions, perhaps the droid had summoned him to protect it, or-

“Lieutenant?” He said, struck dumb. “What are you doing here?”

“My shift is over, sir,” Mitaka explained, holding himself rigidly at attention. “But I failed to give you an adequate sitrep when I escorted you to the medical bay. I am here to correct that error.” He threw the droid a dismissive look. “I must ask the droid to leave for the duration of this discussion. This is sensitive information, and you do not have the clearance.”

The droid nodded wordlessly, leaving the room. Hux breathed a sigh of relief. Then he straightened himself, knowing that he looked far from the part of General, but unwilling to let that show through in his posture.

“At ease, Lieutenant. Report.”

Mitaka explained the situation, how there had been negotiations with Denon –they had several members of the parliament either as proxies or on their own payroll, but nowhere near enough to hold a majority. What they _did_ have was a government that was fearful, panicking even, and unwilling to mount the kind of fight necessary to push back the First Order from Perithal VI.

“We know this both from our negotiations, and from the reports of the internal cabinet meetings of both major parties, as passed on from our MPs,” He said, as he – bizarrely – started to roll up the sleeve of his left arm. “As such, we know that Denon, the most immediate threat to our project on Perithal, will not act against us in the immediate future.”

He had rolled it up to his elbow, and held his arm up so that Hux could see that he’d written something on the inside of his arm in black ink. _Room bugged; meet later, deck 6a, mezzanine_.

Hux’s eyes widened, looking at Mitaka’s face. It was still unreadable.

“Iseno has always had links to us through the smuggling networks that sell to the First Order, and they think that they will garner an advantage over Denonian capital if they are stifled by the First Order. They see benefit in Denon succumbing, and will not interfere.” Mitaka was absolutely brilliant at keeping a straight face, as it turned out. He carefully rolled his sleeve back down as he spoke, not missing a beat. “Once again, this has been proven both through our negotiations with them from the bridge, _and_ through reports from our agents within Iseno’s most prominent business council.”

“Excellent, Mitaka,” Hux said, mind racing. Who had bugged the room? Why? When? How did Mitaka know? Why was Mitaka telling him? “The moment I am discharged, I will arrange to speak with you further. Keep me updated on events as they happen. Was that all that you had to report?”

Mitaka nodded firmly, eyes glancing at something on Hux’s face. “Yes, General,” He said.

“Dismissed,” Hux said, watching Mitaka leave with a hint of regret. He would have liked to have spoken more about the situation, bounce around ideas – strategies, tactics – but it seemed that there was more at play than he had realised. No matter his wounded pride, survival came before indulging himself, came before nursing his ego.

As though his woes weren’t already enough, the Nan-E unit made its merry way back into the room. It carried a small, covered tray, which obviously held a meal.

It felt like an insult. “I’ve already been fed,” he protested, refusing to sit down when the droid gestured to the bed.

“Please, sir, you are malnourished,” the droid laid out the tray on the bedside table. “I have provided honey cakes and a sucrose gel packed with calories and vitamin supplements, as well as water and tea.”

At least the droid had brought tea. It had probably looked at some log of everything that he had ever eaten to see what he liked. It wouldn’t find much outside of tea and ration bars.

“I don’t have much of a sweet tooth,” he said truthfully, turning his nose up at the offering once the droid lifted the lid off of the tray. It wasn’t that he wasn’t hungry, it was the _principle_. He ought to decide what he did, and when.

“Please try and eat, sir,” the droid brandished the jelly at him, a sickly yellow colour, like a dehydrated person’s urine.

“I will have the tea, thank you,” He said, pushing the jelly away.

The droid frowned. “I also brought you a ration bar,” it said, clearly grumpy. It pulled it, still packaged, from a compartment in its torso. “Six hundred calories, you can have it with your tea.” That was, very clearly, not a _suggestion_.

Hux did eat it, but only because he didn’t need to waste energy fighting a droid. When the droid offered him the jelly again, he handed it straight to Anneke to play with. She was quick to make a fine mess, happily spurting it everywhere, then running her hands through it where she could reach where it had fallen on the pillow-case with holes in it that she was wearing.

Mitaka wanted to tell him something. He was burning to know what it was, what could possibly require such secrecy. Was it a plot against him? If so, by who?

Was it Kylo Ren? … Was he acting under Kylo Ren’s orders, perhaps?

“Give me an estimated time until I am discharged,” he said to the droid, which was fruitlessly offering him the little cakes.

“You have been cleared in the wake of your blood transfusion, but I will not allow you to be released until you have eaten a proper meal, and have been given a meal plan that you must follow to the letter,” Nan-E3 said, pushing the plate at him.

“Fine,” Hux said, taking all three cakes (they were more scones, really) in hand and eating them as fast as he could.

It actually took a while – they were dense, and dry, and he needed to take several sips of water to avoid choking on the large mouthfuls.

He struggled to swallow the last bite. “There, happy?”

“Satisfied,” the droid said, moving around to pick up Anneke from the bed. “Who needs a diaper change?”

Hux couldn’t help but look down, just in case it was him. Thankfully, it wasn’t. The embarrassing bacta device was still firmly lodged in him under his gown.

 _Kriff_ , he hoped Mitaka hadn’t noticed it. The black straps around his hips were visible through the semi-sheer gown, if you knew that they were there.

“Bring me a uniform,” he told the droid, desperate to be back in something presentable. He ran his hands through his hair, though without a wash, a comb, and a fresh layer of pomade, he knew that it was a lost cause.

“I am busy with Anneke, sir,” the droid said, carefully removing her soiled coverings. It appeared that she had urinated, and the cloth diaper only just barely contained her mess.

“Then order a droid in here to do it instead!” _Obviously_.

He was gratified when a medical droid entered a few moments later and handed him a freshly pressed uniform. Putting it on felt like sliding back into his own skin, a weight he wasn’t aware of lifting from his shoulders.

He brushed some non-existent dust from the front of his greatcoat, then marched out of the medical bay. The Nan-E unit rushed to keep up with him, a similarly freshly-dressed Anneke clutched in its arms.

“Shall we go to your rooms, sir?” The droid asked.

Hmm. “I will meet you there,” Hux said.

When the droid looked like it was about to argue, he quickly added, “I have a small matter to attend to, so I will meet you there as soon as its done.”

“What matter?” Nan-E3 asked suspiciously. What was this droid, his keeper?

Thinking fast, he said, “I need to pick up a physical copy of Lieutenant Mitaka’s report. In fact, would you send a message to Mitaka, and tell him to meet with me? He will know where.”

The droid nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Yes, sir, I will see you soon.”

He watched it go, gleeful for a moment’s peace from the karking sack of banther fodder.

He hurried to deck 6a, making sure to look as professional as possible. No one stopped him on the way, the Stormtroopers saluting as he passed. All seemed, for a moment, as it should be.

Mitaka was waiting for him when he arrived.

“Sir,” he said gravely. “I am glad to see that you are out of medical.”

“Not as glad as I am,” Hux said as he stood beside him, causing Mitaka to grin feebly. “Is all well?”

“Yes,” Mitaka shifted a step closer, so that their shoulders were nearly brushing. “We won’t be overheard here, I made sure of it.”

“I hope that you were discreet,” Hux said softly back. Mitaka nodded, handing him a piece of flimsy. “There’s a communication that I intercepted from Peavey to Colonel Ingham.”

… _That_ was interesting.

“What was the nature of it?” He asked quietly, tucking the flimsy into the inner pocket of his coat.

“A package, to be delivered to the Finalizer,” Mitaka whispered, face neutral. “And I have reason to believe that it has already made its way on board.”

Hux considered this. “And have you been through the logs to confirm this, perhaps see what it is that he’s had delivered?”

“He was careful to ensure that this particular package _wasn_ ’ _t_ logged, sir,” Mitaka said, giving him a meaningful look. “Your guess is as good as mine, with regards to where it has ended up.”

Most interesting, indeed.

“I will look over your report, Lieutenant,” Hux said, patting his pocket where he’d stored the flimsy. “Is that all that you have to report?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hux actually smiled at him. Stars, it felt good to be respected by someone. “Excellent work,” he said, clapping a hand on Mitaka’s shoulder. The man jumped nearly a foot in the air, but Hux was already turning to leave.Best not leave the Nan-E dictator waiting, lest it send someone looking for him.

He really hoped that he could have Peavey spaced, soon; _that_ would lift his spirits _considerably_. First, though, he would have to know who was involved, how deep it went, and whether Mitaka was even trustworthy at all.

When he returned to his room, the Nan-E droid presented him with a screaming, hungry child and a meal plan. This time, his monomolecular blade cut neatly through the blasted thing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Took me a long time to be satisfied with this one

“Pass me the soldering iron, would you?” Hux said over his shoulder to the medical droid that he’d once again ordered to his quarters. With Anneke making herself a handful, the extra pair of hands was necessary if he wanted to get anything done.

Met-X5 was quick to comply, placing the tool in Hux’s extended hand. He got back to work, installing a new central processing unit in the remains of Nan-E3.

Anneke was sitting in a sling fashioned from a sheet on his chest, given that she’d loudly voiced her opinion at having Hux outside of her line of sight for any amount of time. He was careful to work around her, although he regretted leaving her arms free. She kept grabbing at the tools that he was holding, her lack of coordination resulting in an unpredictable trajectory of vulnerable limbs dangerously close to his delicate work.

“Hush,” He said softly, giving her his left hand to play with as he soldered with the other.

His cut had been very clean, disabling the droid by taking out its central processing unit. It was not only _intensely_ cathartic, to watch the wretched thing drop like a rock, but it was a _necessary_ first step in rebuilding it into something more useful to him.

As long as the Supreme Leader was determined to relegate him to a behind-the-scenes role as a fething _nurturer_ (of all things!), and Peavey (and possibly Mitaka, and _stars knew_ who else) were potentially plotting against him, there wasn’t a soul that he could trust. Save, perhaps, Anneke – it would be beyond useful to add a reprogrammed Neonatal-Automated-Nurturing unit to that list. It was fortunate, then, that he had spent so many resources on building loyalty programming for droids that could override their First Order loyalty directives. Once compete, the Nan-E unit would be under his complete control, answering to no greater authority than his own.

He was also quietly satisfied that Met-X5 seemed to take notice of the innards of Nan-E3 spread out on his desk, and was suddenly much more subservient than it had been of late. Once he completed his work on the Nan-E unit, he would work on Met-X5. Given his run of ill health and the potential dangers of his political rivals, it might be necessary to have a medical droid with loyalty programming that prioritised himself above all else close at hand.

Anneke had exhausted herself, her blinking slowing to a crawl as she struggled to keep her eyes open. _Thank_ _stars_ , he thought, as she finally fell asleep against him, at last freeing his hand. She seemed to only have short bursts of energy, doing little other than sleeping, eating, and excreting. At least her penchant for dozing allowed him some limited time to work uninterrupted.

That said, the work of soldering was dull, mind-dumbing, and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander.

Mitaka’s pilfered message had read innocuously enough; _Thank you for your assistance, please let me know if I can return the favour – the gift is in storage, I’ll let you know if I have occasion to use it_.

The most damning thing about it was that Peavey and Ingham had absolutely _no reason_ to speak to one another, and there wasn’t any log of any kind of package or other correspondence between the two. His suspicions were further heightened by the very fact that the lowly Rolph Ingham was acting commander of the _Liberator_ on account of the untimely demise of his superiors on Pamorjal – ostensibly as part of the fight against the local fighters on planet.

He couldn’t think of a single reason why the late Commander of the Liberator would need to be planet-side for any part of their mission.

He hissed through his teeth as he accidentally tapped a finger on the hand stabilising the Nan-E unit with the soldering iron. Shaking his hand to ease the burn, he put the tool down.

“Are you taking a break, General?” Met-X5 tentatively moved toward him, carrying something.

“Perhaps,” he sighed, admitting defeat. He could be honest with himself, right now, that he was definitely still recovering; he was _exhausted_.

“I have prepared dinner for you,” the droid offered, placing a field ration bar and a cup of steaming Tarine tea on the table next to the lifeless Nan-E3. “If you would like it.”

It seemed that the droid would be hounding him for his terrible eating habits, but he didn’t mind so much at the moment. For one, he was too tired to argue with the blasted thing. Secondly, he had a goal again, and he wanted to be in the best possible condition to face the coming days and all of the challenges and traps that lay ahead. Thirdly, the droid had very carefully presented the dinner as an _offer_. He might’ve poured the tea into the droid’s internals if it had phrased it as an order.

He nibbled the bar, easing its passage with the tea, until he’d finished it. By then, he was considering forgoing his bed and falling asleep at his desk. He opted not to do so, however, given that he was still wearing Anneke in the chest-strap.

“Put her in her cot,” He said to the droid, which hastened to comply, extracting her from her sling gently and whisking her away. Once the infant was safely placed in her bed, the droid placed a sheet over the workbench to cover the Nan-E unit’s delicate circuitry from dust. It bore a passing resemblance to a body in a mortuary, but at least it would be safe from environmental hazards.

Reluctantly, he pulled himself out of the chair and stumbled to his bed. He landed heavily, but he didn’t think it had ever felt better. His mind began to drift as he felt the pull of fatigue lull his consciousness toward sweet slumber...

His eyes shot open again.

His heart beat rapidly against his ribcage, pulse thundering through his ears, upon his mind latching onto a sudden realisation.

One; if his medbay room was bugged, then someone working against him knew about Anneke and his – his _breastfeeding_. Two; Mitaka had been in the room with Anneke, and there was no reason to believe that he wasn’t now aware of her. Hells, he’d seen the _Nan-E droid_ , and there was no way to pass _that_ thing off as a regular medical droid.

He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, suddenly not tired at all.

 

* * *

 

Ren let Rey’s words fade into the background as he threw himself back into the battle from the bridge.

At least, that’s what he had _wanted_ to do. There was nothing terribly exciting in the immediate future, given that Denon had been too afraid to take them on, Iseno was working with them, and it was the ground troops who were managing the clean-up of protests planet-side. There was little to do, other than wait for the reports to flood in. It was really something that Hux was more suited to - Ren preferred the action. The planning beforehand was dull work.

“If anything serious happens, if our situation changes, inform me immediately,” He said to the most senior-looking officer in his immediate vicinity. He thought that he recognised the old man, the one that Hux always complained about. Peevish, or some such.

The man saluted, but Ren was already out the door. He marched straight to the medical bay, but Hux and Anneke were nowhere to be found. He stopped himself from destroying a droid in his rage, marching instead to Hux’s quarters.

He didn’t have the patience for the door chime, so he opened the door with his customary force-push.

Hux looked startled, jerking bodily as he stopped his pacing. He was in full uniform, though his hair was still a mess, and he’d apparently been walking in circles in his quarters. The circles around his eyes were deep, tinged purple, adding to his maniacal aura.

“Were you discharged from the medical bay?” He demanded, narrowing his eyes at Hux.

Hux lowered his head in deference, “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

 _Well, good._ “The situation on Perithal VI is largely under control,” Ren announced. “We don’t need three Star Destroyers hovering over it. We can move onto other tasks.”

Hux stared at him for a moment, dumbstruck. “ _What_ other tasks?” He managed after a beat.

“The Resistance,” He snarled.

Hux, if possible, was struck _dumber_. “You can’t be _serious_ , Ren,” He said, forgetting the new honorific in his startled dismay. “We are closer than ever to capturing Denon, and the Resistance is reduced to a few _dozen_ _individuals_ , how could we possibly back down now-?”

“The Resistance should be our priority,” Ren shouted over him, cutting off Hux, who immediately bowed his head again, looking contrite.

The shouting woke the child in the cot.

Hux moved to tend to her, but Ren rushed past him, scooping her up into his arms. “Shh,” He hushed, holding her close to him.

Her wailing increased, but that wasn’t the thing that caused the sudden sensation of ice piercing his chest.

She felt _afraid_. Not just afraid, but a bone-deep, chilling horror, one that something as young and innocent as her should never feel.

“What have you done to her?” He hissed, rounding on Hux, who held his hands in front of him as though to defend himself.

“N-nothing, I-“ Hux took a step backwards, eyes wide, fear snatching the words from his lips.

Anneke’s wailing had increased in volume, taking on a desperate pitch, more screaming than crying. He dove into her trusting mind, desperate himself to find the source of her terror. She had no defence against his intrusion, little mind as open to him as a book.

He soon found the source.

He looked to Hux, his heart breaking open beneath his ribs.

“She’s scared of me,” He whispered, horrified.

Hux didn’t move, hands still in front of him defensively. “You’re just new to her, that’s all-“

“No,” Ren spoke over him again, hoping that Hux couldn’t see the tears he knew were welling in his eyes. “She _knows_ me – she,” he swallowed, “She wasn’t scared of me before.”He looked down at her in his arms, her shrill cries tearing at him. She was screaming gutturally for Hux.

Hux, who was now moving towards him. “Come here,” He was saying, arms reaching out for the baby. His eyes, glazed and focused on Anneke, told him that she had once again taken control from him.He reluctantly let Hux take her, letting his gloved hand run down her face as the General took her weight.

Hux came back to himself as he settled her against his shoulder, letting her hide her face in his neck. So she wouldn’t have to see him.

“How did this _happen_?” He said softly, limbs suddenly very heavy. He moved away from the pair, feeling his daughter’s panic recede as he increased the distance between them. He sat on the edge of Hux’s bed, watching him rubbing Anneke’s little back as he tried to calm her.

At least she had reverted to her regular distressed crying, rather than her terrified blood-curdling scream. “I’m sure that this is only temporary,” Hux consoled him, even as he consoled their daughter. “Perhaps she’s just hungry-“

“I can _feel_ her fear, Hux!” He roared back, causing the man to flinch and fall silent. “She can’t stand to be near me.”

He heard Hux mutter something, seemingly directed at the baby.

“What was that?” He said, keen to divert his sorrow into something less painful, like rage – if he didn’t think about something other than Anneke’s sudden dread around him, he worried that the tears building behind his eyes might make an appearance.

Hux looked at him with wide eyes. “Nothing,” He said hurriedly. “Just… Comforting nonsense.”

Ren rolled his eyes, inhaling deeply. “It was obviously something that you didn’t want me to hear,” He said matter-of-factly. “If you hadn’t wanted me to hear it, you shouldn’t have _said_ it.” He gave Hux a long look. “Spit it out.”

Hux pursed his lips, clearly conflicted, before he quietly said, “I can’t imagine why.”

“What?”

“Just… Why she’s afraid of you,” He said, as gently as possible. “I mean…” He was wincing, as though expecting a blow.

 _Of course he was_. He had, after all, been preparing to relieve his turmoil by taking them out his frustrations on Hux, however he saw fit. Without the barrier of Snoke, Kylo had delighted in showing Hux his place, repeatedly and violently. It wasn’t as though the bruises from his impact with the console had healed – the medical gown had revealed that they had simply turned a deep purple, edged with sickly yellow-green. They took up most of his right side, from his shoulder to his thigh.

Not to mention the bruise on his cheek from where Kylo had slapped him in the medical bay. And though there were no marks from where he’d held Hux’s throat to close with the force, there was an imprint of his hand from where he had held Hux by the neck.

How many of those injuries had been given to him in front of their daughter?

Following his hunch, he felt for Anneke’s mind once again. She wasn’t reaching for him this time, her presence in the force seeming so small, as though she were trying to hide.

He delved into her memories, searching for her specific impressions of him.

At first, it had been her desire to inspect the curious presence she could detect around her. Then, her sheer joy at being able to express the delights of existence (like bath time) with him. How she happily felt for his mind, excited by the bright glow of her father in the force.

It had been in the medical bay, where she had cottoned on. When he’d approached Hux in anger, his force presence looming larger than his physical one, threatening them _both_ as he moved towards them; hitting Hux, knocking her over, leaving her reeling. He saw how, in her memory, she was jostled painfully, her head aching where she’d been squished by Hux as he fell under the force of the blow.

She’d known that he had done it, that _he_ had been the cause of her pain. There was so much she didn't, _couldn_ 't yet understand about the world... But she knew danger when it came for her, and that danger was _him_.

His grip on her mind faltered, and he withdrew, becoming aware of a lump that had formed in his throat. He deflated, letting his torso fall forward so that his head rested between his knees, staring at the floor.

“… Ren?” Hux said cautiously, making no attempt to move closer.

“M’alright,” He croaked to the floor.

Hux still didn’t move, clearly having heard that he’d spoken, but been unable to parse the words.

Ren watched the tears that had escaped his eyes fall to the floor between his feet, his hair saving him from Hux witnessing his shame.

“Oh,” Hux said suddenly, holding Anneke a little away from him, lip curling. “ _Urine_ ,” He said daintily, turning to the refresher. “I’ll… Have to change her,” He said meekly, over her continuing cries.

Ren let him go, hearing the lock click into place as Hux barricaded himself away.

He used the reprieve to try and collect himself. He sat back up, still sitting on Hux’s bed, facing the ceiling, letting the tears streak down his face. Every emotion seemed to burn through him at once, and it was so much more than his daughter’s terror.

It was Skywalker. It was Rey. It was m- Leia. It was _Han_. Anneke, it seemed, was the final straw.

He was startled out of his reverie by an embarrassed cough.

“Hux-?” He stood quickly, doing nothing to hide his face – there was no point, he would already have seen-

“No, Ben.”

“ _Again_?!” He rounded on her, desperate to channel his pain back into rage, where it was safer. “What more could you have to say to me today?!”

“I’m not doing this, Ben,” Rey said forlornly, and he noticed that her eyes were puffy, as well. “I would rather be elsewhere tonight, too.”

He sighed, wiping away the wet streaks on his cheeks with the back of one hand. “I knew it wasn’t just Snoke bringing us together,” he said, meeting her eyes to see her reaction.

She seemed tired, this evening. “No, I suppose not,” She said wearily. “Is it you, then?”

“No,” Ben said, willing her to understand. “Don’t you see?”

She shrugged, a single tear falling down her cheek. It caught his attention like a magnet, drawing him in.

“What’s upset you?” He asked, taking a step forward. She didn’t retreat. She was one of the last people – possibly _the_ last – who wasn’t afraid of him.

“I should ask you the same thing,” She said in lieu of an answer.

He turned his head to the side, not wanting to think about his daughter’s panic in response to his presence. “It’s none of your concern,” He said shortly.

“Well, neither are my troubles yours, then, _hypocrite_ ,” She crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a playful, if teary, smile.

He glanced at the refresher. It didn’t seem like Hux would be emerging anytime soon. At least he couldn’t hear Anneke crying, anymore.

“I have a question,” He said, spinning back around to Rey.

“Oh?” She seemed intrigued. “Wanting to leave the First Order?” She said it playfully, but not without hope.

He scoffed. “You act as though the First Order and the Republic are so different,” He said dismissively. “No, I-“

“They _are_!” She said vehemently, arms suddenly at her sides, hands curled into fists. She jutted her jaw at him, hands shaking slightly. “How can you refuse to see it?”

“I suppose it must seem like there’s a world of difference, to someone raised outside of civilisation, on a wasteland like Jakku,” He dismissed. “I wanted to ask-“

“No, you don’t get to toss me aside like that!” She stormed right up to him, poking a finger into his chest. He was shocked when he felt the pressure of it, pressing firmly as she prodded him.

“I may not know much about politics, _Ben Solo_ ,” She said, a fire in her eyes that was so enticing. “But I know evil when I see it.”

“Just because the Republic is better at hiding it, doesn’t mean that it isn’t evil,” He explained, brushing her hand away.

That did nothing to calm her. “Ugh, _Ben_!” She cried, throwing her hands in the air and storming around the room.

He was silent until she finished her pacing, letting her fume until she ran out of steam. At least neither of them were crying, anymore.

She finally came to a stop in the middle of the room, crouching on the ground and sitting down. She sat, hugging her legs to her chest, facing away from Ben. Tentatively, she glanced over her shoulder, and patted the spot next to her.

Despite himself, Ren went and sat down beside her, crossing his legs as he did so.

“I don’t know how to convince you to leave the First Order,” She spoke quietly, idly running her finger over the durasteel floor in an indecipherable pattern. He wondered if the floor was durasteel where she was, perhaps on a Resistance ship, or if she were drawing patterns in the dirt of some unchartered planet.

“You can’t,” He said simply.

Her hand paused. “I think I’m starting to realise that,” She said despairingly, hugging her legs tighter. “But if you did, it would change _everything_.” She looked at him, determination in her eyes. “It could shape the future of the whole galaxy for the better, if you turned on those monsters.”

“I am one of those monsters,” He corrected.

She sighed deeply. “You don’t have to be.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“… You’re still here,” She said, glaring at him.

He supposed neither of them had any control over how long this connection lasted. She could disappear at any moment, and not reappear until-

He jolted as he remembered the question that had been burning him, desperate to get it out before this ended. “Ask my mother,” He said, not letting himself question whether this was a good idea. “If when I was an infant, I had a special connection with her.”

“… What?” She said, head tilted in her confusion. “What _kind_ of connection?”

“Could we… I don’t know. Feel each other’s feelings? Speak? Reach into each other’s minds?” He was so desperate to know. “Right from birth, I mean – what force powers did I have as an infant?”

She squinted at him, scratching at her head with one hand. “… Why? Do you remember something?” Her face broke into a wide grin. “Do you miss her? Is that-“

She disappeared.

He stared at the space she had occupied, feeling at once desperate to have answers to his questions, and uncertain what he wanted them to be.

He looked to the refresher door, still closed and locked. He was certain that it didn’t take this long to change a diaper. Hux probably didn’t even have a spare cloth to wrap her in, was probably just hiding from him.

Perhaps it would be better if he left, for now.

 

* * *

 

Hux cleaned the filth off of the child in the sink, rinsing her legs with warm water. She hadn’t liked the cold water, had kicked and fussed until he had given up and turned the hot tap. He focused on this task, in the here and now, rather than on the dangerous madman on the other side of the door. Her little pillowcase was ruined, and joined her cloth diaper already in the chute destined for the incinerator.

“Are you done creating a mess for tonight?” He asked ruefully as she happily kicked her little legs in the warm water.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to get the ugly cord still sticking out from her stomach wet, so he tried to spare her belly from the splashes from her happy kicking. It was difficult, given that she was so small – there was only a few centimetres between the region that required cleaning and her umbilical stump.

It looked terrible, and he wasn’t sure if it was still supposed to be there. It had been wet, purplish-white, and… _Squishy_ , when the child had first… _Emerged_. Now, it was dry, and green-black, and looked… _Rotten_.

Could it give her an infection? He was tempted to pull it off, but the Nan-E droid hadn’t, so he didn’t touch it. The sooner he repaired and reprogrammed that monstrosity, the better.

He could hear Ren talking to someone – he must be in communication with someone on the bridge. He didn’t sound pleased.

Hux decided to stay in the refresher.

Anneke was calming down now. She seemed to love the water, unable to stop the wild flinging of little hands and feet through the air, mouth opening wide each time the water passed over her feet. He smiled to himself, thinking that she would love Arkanis and its many waterholes.

But that place held only sour memories for him, now, no matter how lovely the beaches had been, how calming the cool seawater.

“One day I’ll take you planetside,” He whispered to her, wary of bringing Ren’s attention back on either of them. “You’ll have to be vaccinated, of course – they’re all _filthy_ , planets. You’re much safer up here.”

He rethought those words as he heard Ren shout something through the door. He wasn’t right up against the refresher door, like last time, so he couldn’t quite make out the words… But he didn’t need to know the details to know his mood hadn’t improved.

Maybe if he waited a little longer, Brendol would-

Wait.

 _Ren_. Maybe _Ren_ would calm down…

This was _humiliating_. Here he was, hiding in the refresher, from an angry man who was physically stronger and held power over him. _Typical_.

“I’m not a child anymore,” He said to himself, pulling his daughter out of the flow the water.

She immediately started to fuss, until he wrapped her in a towel from the rack and held her to his chest to help her warm up. He himself had never minded the chill that all Starships held, having spent so much of his life on them. The glacial cold of the draughts of Arkanis made them seem warm by comparison – at least there was no fear of wind chill on a Starship.

But to his child, the cold was a major concern. Could she freeze to death here? He rubbed a hand over her back, hoping to warm her.

“I’ve really no idea how to take care of you,” He lamented, and she responded by turning her face into his neck to mouth at him.

“Does that mean that you’re hungry?” He asked as she chewed heartily on whatever part of him she could reach.

He sat on top of the bowl of the toilet, bringing her to sit in his lap. He was still in his uniform, so he held his legs together and rested her on his lap. His long legs, coupled with her diminutive size, left her plenty of room (though he was sure that his bony legs were less than comfortable). He shucked off his greatcoat, reaching to the side to hang it over the towel rack, then removed his belt and tunic. His skin pimpled with goose bumps as the biting air came into contact with it.

His chest looked a little swollen, again – it certainly felt like he had milk in him. _Just in time._

He picked her up, bringing her to his chest. Now that things were settling on Perithal VI, there was no reason that they wouldn’t be able to order formula from the planet. Until then, however…

He was getting better at this, he thought. He ran the nipple over her lips until she took the hint and latched on.

He could hear Ren’s muffled voice, still chatting with someone, and – lo and behold – actually sounded less enraged. Perhaps it was eye of the storm, but he was looking forward to leaving the fething refresher.

“You know,” He said to Anneke, “This is the first time I’ve had company while I’ve been in hiding from a madman.”

She didn’t respond, except to look at him dolefully with her absurdly sweet doe-eyes and continue suckling.

What he’d done when he’d hidden from his father’s moods as an adolescent was plan – undermining a rival, garnering support from strategically useful people, analysing the odds stacked against him. It grounded him, gave him purpose, gave him the strength to push through to the next day. He ought to do so now, given that events were outpacing him. He needed to tell Ren that others aboard the ship knew about Anneke. Mitaka, very likely, and whoever had bugged his medical suite. Met-X5 had presented him with the two audio bugs that had been placed in his room, proving that there was, indeed, a recording somewhere of his conversation with the Nan-E unit whilst he was confined there. He wouldn’t know what else was on it until he got a hold of it himself. How long had it been in there? The logs of who’d entered his rooms while he was unconscious showed only droids, but it was perfectly reasonable to assume that someone had programmed a droid to do such work. It was what he would have done.

It would be nice if he could employ Ren’s powers to track down whosoever was plotting against him, but the first step in that plan was for him to convince the Supreme Leader to support him.

He wasn’t, however, certain that now would be the best time to raise all of this with Ren. He knew that it was pathetic, to hide from the man, but with his increasingly frequent outbursts of violence, he didn’t feel that he had much of a choice. Even holding Anneke wasn’t enough to save him.

He wanted to win Ren back to his side – needed to, if he were to maintain his position. If he couldn’t convince Ren to let him lead their army, to allow him to fulfil his duties as General, to treat him with at least a modicum of decency in front of the crew, then he would likely be ousted by some upstart, That said, given how the last two days had gone, he was starting to doubt that it was possible.

The time to decide who to rely on, who held the most cards, who was best able to secure his position, was running out with every passing second. He needed to make his decision and act, soon. He didn’t know Mitaka’s motives or his alliances, he was quite sure that Peavey was an enemy at this point, and Ren was… Well, Ren was Ren, but he had useful abilities that might aid in the coming days.

He resolved himself to the task… The next step in the internal First Order political sphere was to get Ren to do the dirty work of snooping on his rivals. That way he could find out how much they knew, or didn’t know, about his _baby_ situation, what they were planning, who was involved, and what forces were arrayed against him. Once obtained, that intelligence would inform his next step.

By the time Anneke had had her fill and they emerged from the refresher, Ren was gone. Well, Hux would have to track him down later, after finishing his alterations to Nan-E3. The very first order of business, however, would be much-needed sleep.

He lay Anneke down beside him, falling asleep to Met-X5 draping a blanket over them both.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh its been so long!! Sorry!! I've been working to try and make sure all of the relevant plot points are worked in there, and that all the characters are in the right stage of their developed for coming chapters. I've written bits here and there down the line in the story, but there's 1000s of words between there and now!
> 
> You'll have to wait a little longer for the next sex scene ヽ( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°)ﾉ
> 
> ALSO there's a _BEAUTIFUL_ piece of artwork for this fic now!! By the wonderful [Orange-Helius on Tumblr, and you should check it out!!](http://orange-helius.tumblr.com/post/173601106243/mcducklet-blog-mcducklet-blog) My heart is all warm and fuzzy because of it ❤
> 
> I have loved every comment ❤❤ you're all gems!

Hux woke slowly, the nighmare he’d been enveloped in chasing him into his first waking moments. His heart pounded, but his head still felt full of cotton, the adrenalin not quite enough to shake the intense fatigue from his mind.

As always, the details of the dream slipped through his conscious mind and bled into a background sensation of unease. All he could remember was that Brendol had been chasing him…

No matter. He tried to sit up, but found himself uncoordinated, just barely catching himself before he could land on-

_Anneke!_

He sat up properly, one hand rubbing sleep from his eyes, the other holding him up to ensure that he didn’t collapse on her. It felt uncomfortable to sit like this, as he realised the bacta device was still inserted into him. He was certain that he could feel fluid leaking from him around the base of it, as well…

His eyes were still blurry, but he managed to navigate his way out of bed without waking the sleeping babe, and stumbled into the refresher.

He managed to stand over the refresher bowl, fumbling with his jodhpurs until he freed himself, desperate to empty his bladder and-

He caught a dark shape moving toward him from the corner of his eye, and he startled, whipping his arm out in readiness to stab the intruder-

It was the medical droid.

“Sir!” It said hastily. “I apologise for surprising you!”

Unbelievable. How had he missed it when he’d entered the room? Yes, his eyes were still blurry, but it was hardly a small droid. He stared at it distastefully as he lowered his arm back to his side. It was a good thing that he was standing over the refresher bowl with his dick out, because he had _definitely_ pissed a little.

“What are you _doing_ in here?” He demanded, pride stinging.

The droid gesture behind itself, where it had set up what appeared to be a miniature laboratory. “I was experimenting with chemical mixtures for an improved cloacal-bacta solution for you,” It explained, and Hux had spent enough time around the thing to recognise the swell of pride it exuded. “Should you ever care to send feedback regarding the device, I will happily make changes based on your experiences.”

Hux sighed. “It’s been adequate. No pain whilst inserted,” He said dully, rudely pissing into the bowl as he spoke. It was a droid, in _his_ refresher, and he was still too tired to deal with whatever had happening, so he did not feel that any courtesy was warranted. “Although, I do believe that it has been leaking.”

“That’s to be expected, sir,” The droid said ruefully. “Not only does the gel gradually turn to liquid, but blood and faeces are still-“

“Hup-up-up!” Hux interrupted, holding up a hand to silence it. He hardly needed to hear this now. He pushed the jodhpurs down, kicking them off. He was already bootless – had the droid done that in the night, or had he? He couldn’t remember, but he was too tired, still, to ruminate on it.

“Assist me in removing this device,” he ordered, gesturing vaguely to the straps securing the bacta device in him.

The droid took particular care with him this time, letting his squat over the bowl to remove it, ensuring that the filth was safely disposed of without any risk to Hux’s hygiene or dignity.

There was still blood, but only small clots today. He didn’t linger on the contents of the bowl beyond knowing that he was no longer bleeding out.

“Would you like the device reinserted?” The droid asked.

“ _Ab_ solutely not,” Hux pulled on the straps to loosen them, letting the harness fall to the floor. “Have a new one ready for me when I get dressed.”

With that unpleasantness dealt with, he was eager to bathe. As he was removing his tunic, he ordered the droid to turn on the shower for him.

Given its recent proximity to the macabre droid shell formerly known as Nan-E3, Met-X5 complied quickly and without complaint. It had done wonders, really. He ought to stab people in the face more often, perhaps leave them somewhere on display.

With that happy thought, he finished undressing and slipped into the water shower. He didn’t even feel out of sorts being naked in front of the droid – it had seen more of him than even he’d seen of himself.

The water helped to wake him a little, and he had enough cognizance to feel concerned about his utter exhaustion.

“Droid, prepare breakfast for me, and be sure to include a stim with it,” He said loudly, ensuring that he could be heard over the water.

He heard the droid leave the room, so he was confident that his orders were being heeded.

Showers were wonderful for letting one’s mind wander, but his chief concern remained what he had fallen asleep to last night. His best bet was still finding out how far the conspiracy amongst Peavey and his ilk went, how many were involved, and how deep the disturbance was within the Order. He had thought to use Ren, and still intended to, but he was never one to rely on the flimsy, unpredictable nature of “the force” alone. It seemed to provide half-truths and misleading information twice as often as anything genuinely useful. It was a tool, and an unreliable one at that. No, for all that he would set Ren on his enemies, he wanted to have more than one card up his sleeve at any one time.

He was already reprogramming one droid, after all. What was a few more…? A small army of mouse droids could be equipped with the scanning equipment to locate unusually placed electronic devices that might house files… Including the recorded audio of his time in the medical bay, or any other potentially scandalous holo materials. And they could be used to place recording or broadcasting devices of his own.

It was hardly the first time that he had done such a thing, but it had been a long time since he had needed to stoop to such measures against others within the First Order.

His eyes were, at last, beginning to clear, his mind a little sharper than before. His body ached a little, but he tried not to let it impact his movements as washed his hair (at long last!), rubbing the shampoo into his scalp to ease the dull throbbing emanating from his overtired brain. He briefly allowed himself the fantasy of being able to trust someone enough to have them massage him, to be able to relax into the hold of another. It wasn’t to be in his life, but he could dream, in his semi-awake state.

He rinsed out the suds from his hair, letting the water cascade down his neck and soothe him. He could stay in the water shower forever, were it not for the knowledge of how many litres it drained from their reserve every minute he was in here. It would be recycled, of course, but that was a drain on resources in itself.

He was forced to end his relaxing ritual by a shrill cry coming from the sleeping room – Anneke, it seemed, had not appreciated waking alone.

It didn’t take him long to pat himself dry, shave his face, order the droid to assist him in reinserting the bacta-horror into him, blow-dry his hair, dress himself in the uniform it brought him, and carefully pomade his hair. Every movement was rushed as he hurried to prepare himself for the day whilst Anneke screamed. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he made a snap decision, haphazardly applying a small amount of foundation to his face to cover the bruise from Ren’s medbay outburst.

When he left the refresher and the tinkering droid, the first thing he did was scoop Anneke up into his arms. “Hush, now,” He whispered, holding her against his shoulder.

She didn’t stop crying, however, still upset that he hadn’t been there the moment she’d woken. She’d been afraid, and she clung to him with her tiny hands, fingers grasping at his tunic, as though she were worried that he might disappear even now.

Resigned to enduring her noise, he sat at his desk. The bulk of it was still covered in the remains of Nan-E3, the soldering iron left discarded next to the white sheet that covered the late droid. But next to it was a large wrapped ration bar and a steaming cup of tea.

He managed to eat it with one arm occupied by an upset baby, though he was frustrated when he realised that he couldn’t feed Anneke as he’d gotten dressed into his uniform. He should have left himself shirtless… He simply hadn’t thought of how difficult it was to feed her with the design of his usual garb.

“Droid?” He called out, and Met-X5 came out of the refresher. It was still working in its miniature lab set-up there, but that was something that Hux would deal with another day. It was probably better that R&D on his personal bacta-dildos was out of the potential line of sight of any other living soul aboard the ship, regardless.

“What do you require of me, sir?” It asked, optics focusing on the empty cup of tea and ration wrapper on the desk. “Would you like me to dispose of-“

“Take Anneke for a moment, would you?” He said, holding her out to it. “I need to remove my tunic.”

The droid seemed uncomfortable as it carefully held Anneke, its movements overly slow and careful. It was probably imagining the horrific ways its existence would end should it drop her.

He removed the coat and tunic. The cold of the ship really did bother him, now that he was uncovered. He carefully folded them and lay the clothes over Nan-E3. “Alright, pass her back,” He said to the droid, who was more than keen to do so.

She calmed a little once she was on the teat, and Hux had the droid bring him another cup of tea to drink. It also offered him vitamin supplements along with his stims, which he _did_ take, but he was sure to glare at the droid the entire time. It was hard to tell, but he was quite sure that he managed to unnerve it.

Anneke didn’t stop drinking for thirty fething minutes. Both sides took about fifteen minutes to drain, and she certainly couldn’t seem to get enough, even then. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he sat there, even after he had Met-X5 provide him with his datapad to browse the updates on Perithal and abroad. She wanted to keep suckling even after he had nothing left to give, and whined piteously every time he tried to dislodge her. He needed to get up, however, because not only did he have work to do before his official shift began, he hadn’t even finished the Nan-E unit’s repairs, and now he had additional reprogramming projects to do, and he was still short an entire engineering team…

And he was so fething _tired_. The longer he sat here, the greater the chance that he might fall the pfaask asleep again. Even the stims, it seemed, struggled to cut through it.

He pushed through the fugue, though, having the droid rebuild the makeshift sling for him again so that Anneke could hold him close without getting in the way. It was not necessarily pleasant, to be uncovered from the waist up save for the sash of the sheet-turned-baby-sling, and he did paint a rather ridiculous picture, shirtless with gloves, but the droid hung his coat from his shoulders to ensure that he was warm.

Upon removing the sheet over Nan-E3, he was pleased to note that the repairs were largely complete. Now it was simply a matter of closing up its internals and altering its coding, and there was already a great deal of that on the CPU he’d installed; it was a relic from his days of tinkering with droids, and already held the basics of his personal loyalty programming. The trick would be altering it so that the Nan-E unit didn’t have any fatal programming errors as a result of conflicting priorities, but that wouldn’t be able to be diagnosed until it was tested, which meant powering the thing on.

The final touches were simple, and the closing of Nan-E3’s head straightforward, even though his movements seemed to lag a second behind his already-slow thoughts. The stims ought to kick in any minute, now. He did lament, momentarily, the extraordinary amount of sleep that he’d missed out on over the last week.

He stood carefully, supporting Anneke with one arm to ensure that she didn’t slip out. He was also wary of tripping on the sheet that formed the sling, as the excess fabric was simply draped over his back and ran across the floor. It formed a kind of bizarre dress, and he resented it deeply, not only for the terrible look and unfortunate gendering, but for the real risk of him tripping over it and thus placing Anneke in harm’s way. If he fell and crushed her, he was absolutely certain that his only survival strategy would be to kill Ren before the man could kill _him_.

Fortunately, he didn’t trip, and managed to lift the Nan-E unit up to power it back on, all whilst holding the sling to his body with one arm.

The droid’s optics powered on, a soft blue light, and it looked around the room slowly. Its head spun until its optics fell on him, and it jolted, bolting upright and leaping from the desk to stand at attention. “General Armitage Hux!” It saluted.

Hux was about to respond, when he felt a warm liquid running down his chest, and he looked down… Of course Anneke had chosen this moment to relieve herself. “Do you do _anything_ other than shit and piss and sleep?” He roused at her, looking at her as though he expected an answer. She might not be able to understand his words, but if she was a force user, surely she could feel his irritation at her transgression?

“Deal with this,” He said to the Nan-E unit, gesturing to the sling.

Nan-E3 tilted its head at him quizzically. “Clarification, sir?”

_Well, here we are, at hurdle number one_. “The baby,” He explained shortly. “She has wet herself. Clean her and put her in fresh linens.”

The droid nodded its assent, and moved to take her from the sling. He hadn’t expected the droid to run seamlessly on the first try, but it was a little concerning that it hadn’t immediately understood his intention with Anneke at that moment. The old Nan-E3 would have had eyes _only_ for Anneke’s needs. There had to be some balance between the two that he could find.

That would have to come later, however, as there were places that he needed to be. Namely, the bridge.

He ordered Met-X5 to watch over Nan-E3, and ensure that it didn’t do anything untoward. Given it was adjusting to its new programming, he didn’t want to take any chances. Further, Met-X5 had already demonstrated that it responded extremely well to being threatened, and he was sure to let it know exactly what it would end up as if any harm came to Anneke. With that out of the way, he redressed, and prepared for work.

Concerned that he might invite Ren’s wrath if he “abandoned” Anneke again, he sent Ren a quick message that she was in his quarters, if he wanted to give her company, but that he himself was on shift. That’s what about as covered as his arse could get, at the moment.

Stifling a yawn, he marched from his quarters to take his rightful place at the helm.

 

* * *

 

 

The situation on Perithal was not as calm as it had seemed mere hours ago.

Hux stood tall and proud on the bridge, having slipped seamlessly back into his formidable persona to face his enemies, both internal and external. Not a hint of weakness would show through. No one would be able to tell that he’d had to use an injectable stim to keep his mind alert, in addition to the one he’d taken with breakfast.

“They haven’t taken the capital, yet, have they?” Hux demanded of Thanisson, who had been the bearer of the bad news.

“No, sir, but at this rate, it may only be a matter of time,” Thanisson replied immediately, not taking his eyes away from the screen. “The manufacturing centre eighty kilometres west of Rathin, Nameen, has already been taken over.”

Hux cursed quietly, though he was confident that no one would fault him for it.

The rebellions that had flowered across the planet like weeds had appeared to have been effectively mown down by their legions of Stormtroopers and a docile political leadership that was unwilling to challenge the First Order. But something deeper, less organised, and vastly more threatening had arisen to replace it; a semi-organised movement of workers in three of the seven major manufacturing centres on the planet had occupied their factories, fought off the Stormtroopers, and were running the townships themselves.

Having seen some of the footage provided in the reports, it was clear what had been the inspiration for these people.

Each and every occupied factory had a Resistance banner hanging from it.

They could not be allowed to set such a precedent. If the other four major centres got cocky as a result of this, they might lose control of the whole planet – a terrible blow, not only for the strategic importance of Perithal, but due to the implications of the First Order’s flagship being unable to reign in a relatively small-scale and disorganised rebellion. Denon might not remain neutral if the First Order bombed their most important supplier of most goods, so simply obliterating the factories from orbit was _strictly_ a last resort.

“I want reports on what is happening in Mithral, Kalim, Polner and Naev, and I want them two hours ago!” Hux demanded, knowing that those cities were keenly watching events in Nameen, and would take their cue from the outcome. Whether they joined the revolt would depend largely on Nameen, Yinan and Lothin. And if the capital city, Rathin, fell, well… That would be a mighty blow to their hold of the planet.

“Has the _Perisher_ sent another legion of troopers to Lothin yet?” He demanded of Peavey, who swivelled in his seat to face Hux.

“Yes, sir, their ETA is forty minutes,” He said. “But the workers have already begun preparing for the assault, and are arming themselves with weapons from their own factories.”

“They are untrained civilians, and they won’t catch us by surprise this time,” Hux said sourly, watching Peavey turn back to his console.

“The unrest is reaching Rathin, sir,” Thanisson said in a high-pitch. “A march of two-hundred and fifty-thousand has begun, and CT-3847 is asking for permission to fire on them.”

Hux inhaled deeply. "Tell her to hold, for now." There was no way to tell if firing on the crowd now would deepen the revolt, but there were precious few options left to them. Without a coherent political leadership for them to cow into submission and derail the movement, force was their only option – but what if it increased the scale of the factory occupations?

“Sir, a report has come in with regards to the workers’ movement in Nameen,” Mitaka said hurriedly, gesturing for Hux to join him at his console.

Hux did so, too absorbed in the moment to chastise the Lieutenant’s casual gesture. “What is it regarding?”

“The apparent catalyst for this movement,” He said, playing a holo that had been attached with the written report.

The unmistakable visage of General Leia Organa glowed an ethereal blue, her expression stern yet weary, somehow broken and yet still determined.

“ _The Resistance sends its regards to the people of Perithal VI_.” Her voice, though raspy with age, held an undeniable strength.

“When did they receive this?” Hux hissed, and Mitaka could only shrug.

“ _We want you to know that yours is not the only planet that has been invaded by the terrible power of the First Order_ ,” She went on, eyes hardening, “ _And that they will not be satisfied until they have total control over the entire galaxy._ ” “ _We cannot allow that to happen. People of Perithal, should you choose to resist, the Resistance will stand beside you. Should you choose to rise against the terrible project of the remains of the Empire, you will not be alone. The Resistance will send what aid it can, including from the Mon Calamari fleet, who have pledged their allegiance to all those opposed to the First Order._ ”

_That_ was news to him.

“Why are we only finding out about this now?” He demanded, causing Mitaka to hastily pause the holo.

“We have begun an investigation into her claim, sir, but we suspect that it is an exaggeration,” The Lieutenant quickly explained. “Some sections of the Mon Calamari fleet have joined, but there is a dispute amongst the top brass, and not all ships are operating under their complete control.”

“Clearly there is a problem if we don’t know about these developments until the _leader of the enemy herself_ tells us,” Hux hissed, but even watching Mitaka shrink wasn’t satisfying, knowing that such a massive oversight had occurred.

Mitaka continued the holo when Hux didn’t say more. General Leia’s voice continued, overlaid over shots of the First Order’s exploits on other worlds – ones where there was less of a need to preserve life and industry, and repression could be doled out on a much greater scale.

“ _This is what the First Order does when left unchecked_ ,” She said, grief underlying her words expertly, and Hux see her life as a political figure had given her a particular talent for emoting _just_ right during her speeches. The view panned over a ruined landscape, bodies clearly visible amongst the rubble, black smoke curling into the air where once stood skyscrapers, columns of ash and detritus reaching the stratosphere. More shots came after than, a compilation of the First Order’s conquests. “ _They have no regard for life, or liberty, only for their own power. There is no low that they will not stoop to_.” A shot of a series of public executions in a square, clearly being carried out by Stormtroopers. A woman, kneeling, about to be beheaded… A small child, no more than three, ran to her and threw his arms around her neck. The executioners bayonet easily cut through them both.

It was good, as far as propaganda films went. Something about the image of the protective child dying stirred something even in _him_ , though he had seen similar executions on many holos, and ordered many more.

“ _The fight against them will not be easy, but it will be harder still to live under these conditions, ruled by these monsters_ ,” Leia’s face reappeared on the holo. “ _Our fight will be made easier if we stand together_. Now _is the time, to stop them before they can rule! We invite you to be a part of the Resistance – rebel, wherever you are, however you can; strike, protest, organise, FIGHT!_ ” Her voice rose to a crescendo, her eyes alighting with some hidden well of determination, “ _They want to rule the whole galaxy? Let’s see how they fare when the whole galaxy_ fights back!”

The holo cut to a shot of a huge demonstration of civilians pushing back a battalion of Stormtroopers, and Hux recalled reading the report on that particular demonstration – it had been quelled by an orbital targeting of the city.

“ _They are not all powerful, they_ can _be defeated_ ,” Leia’s face, again. “ _For the Hosnian system. For the billions now gone, for those suffering now, and for those yet to come, they_ must _be defeated_.”

The video ended on an image of the destruction of Starkiller, clearly taken from an escaping ship. It was juxtaposed to an image of the collapse of the first Deathstar. A subtitle read, “ _From the ashes of the Empire you rose, and to ashes you shall return – we are the fire._ ”

“How many planets have received such transmissions?” Hux rounded on Mitaka. “Have any other uprisings been fuelled by this? Ensure that every ship in our fleet is made aware of this, we will have to draft and release a response ASAP.”

Mitaka nodded dutifully, answering, “I will alert our fleet now, sir,” before throwing himself into the task. The situation was deteriorating, rapidly, it seemed. He knew that this was a possibility, but he had held hope…

No matter. This was the situation, now, and it would have to be dealt with.

“We have received word from the head of the Trade Union Council,” Peavey announced suddenly, and Hux was at his side in an instant.

“What word?” He stood with his arms behind his back, back straight, trying to remain imposing.

“He’s calling now, I can patch him through,” Peavey said, doing so as Hux nodded his assent.

A human man, unremarkable in features, with pale skin and eyes and a bald head appeared in holo form on the console.

“You are speaking to General Hux of the First Order,” He announced, glaring down at the figure. “State your business.”

“General Hux,” The figure greeted meekly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “My name is Ged Forster, the General-Secretary of the Rathin Council of Trade Unions.” He had managed to stabilise his voice, but he was clearly still a nervous wreck. No wonder, given the state of affairs planet-side.

“And what do you have to say to me?” Hux sneered.

“I believe that you may have noticed the developments across the planet,” The man said, gaining confidence with every word spoken, puffing up a little as he went on. “There is utter chaos in every sector, with workers removing their employers from the workplaces and running them autonomously. And I am just about to address a march of no less than a quarter million through the centre of Rathin, where the mood is high and unlikely to be put down easily.”

Hux arched a brow at the man. “Perhaps you underestimate the weapons at our disposal, _Secretary_ ,” He said snidely, leaning down to loom over the figure. “Would you like a demonstration?”

“No, sir, I would not, and I’m sure that you wouldn’t, either,” Forster said, placating. “To fire on them now might be kicking the wart-hornet’s nest, and I have already received word from Yinan, Lothin, Nameen, and now Polner that citizens are taking matters into their own hands.” The man seemed to have built up quite the head of steam, “It’s one thing to obliterate a little town in the outer rim, but this is _Perithal_ – the whole galaxy is watching, including our well-armed neighbours in the inner rim worlds. You want to fire on Rathin about as much as I want you to.”

Damn it all, that was _true_ , but Hux would never _admit_ it. “You assume too much,” He said instead, rising to his full height. “One world is not worth the whole galaxy. We will _not_ be lenient.”

“I know you won’t,” Forster agreed. “Which is why I am offering a solution which might meet both of our needs.”

“Oh?” Hux said, deliberately disinterested. “And what have you to bargain with? What could you _possibly_ have that we need?”

“Credibility,” The man said proudly, sticking out his chest a little. “The sway with the workers to convince them to de-escalate their movement, and not invite the terrible wrath of the First Order down on all of our heads.”

That _was_ interesting. “And in return…?”

“Simple – don’t fire on us, and allow our union establishment to operate as per usual,” Forster said, crossing his arms in front of him. “If we can demobilise this demonstration, I would like to meet with you in person to discuss what further arrangements can be made.”

Hux actually considered this. It was the perfect opportunity to achieve every key goal in one fell swoop, assuming that it worked. He was still tempted to make an example of one of the lesser manufacturing or agrarian areas, even though it might invoke further struggle. But that could always serve as a back-up plan, even if this plan of Forster’s did go awry.

Just as he made his decision, he felt a decisive _pull_ on his mind.

_Anneke_ , he silently bemoaned, _now is not the time_.

“Alright, Forster,” Hux said, looking down his nose at the hologram. He tried to ignore the hollowness settling in his chest, no doubt a result of Anneke’s anxiety at his absence.

He had to remain in the here and now, no matter her distracting abilities. “If you can demobilise the demonstration in Rathin, we will not destroy your city from orbit.” _There_. Decision made.

“Thank you, General,” Forster said obsequiously. “I am sure that we will have a productive working relationship.”

“I’m sure,” Hux waved a hand to indicate to Peavey to cut the feed. He had to leave the bridge to feed Anneke, before she forced him to.

“I will update the Supreme Leader on the situation,” He announced, nodding to Peavey. “You have the bridge in my absence, but inform me the moment the situation on Perithal changes.”

Peavey saluted, but Hux was already out the door.

He hadn’t a clue where Ren would be, but that wasn’t his goal anyway – he had simply needed a plausible reason to leave the bridge that didn’t result in him losing face. What he really needed was to reach Anneke, the desperation already clawing at him. Hunger was there, certainly, but also a terrible fear.

This couldn’t happen every two hours. It was going to drive him mad, and make him appear weak in front of the crew – more so than bursting onto the bridge in a medical gown and looking as though he’d been beaten black and blue.

He reached his quarters in record time, sweeping in through the doors. “Droid, bring me-“

It wasn’t the droid with Anneke, however.

“Ren?” The Supreme Leader was sitting at the head of the bed, legs crossed, hovering one of Hux’s hats over Anneke, who lay on her back at the end of the bed. She was waving her hands, as though trying to grab at it. The droids were nowhere in sight.

Ren looked up at him, and Anneke’s legs started kicking wildly as she heard his voice.

“Yes?” Ren said expectantly, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“What are you doing here?” Hux asked, moving towards Anneke, removing his greatcoat on the way and laying it on the bed next to her.

“You told me she was here, and invited me?” Ren said slowly, looking Hux up and down as though he had some communicable disease.

Oh, he _had_ done that, hadn’t he? “Yes, well,” Hux cleared his throat, removing his tunic. “Anneke needs to be fed.”

Ren’s eyes were fixed on him as he neatly folded the garment and placed it on his greatcoat. It was a little unnerving, but he soon sat himself on the end of the bed, facing away from the Supreme Leader and preserving what little dignity he had left.

He scooped a hand under Anneke and lifted her to his chest, but he could feel the bed shift as Ren moved towards him.

The man sat behind him, his hanging over the edge of the bed on either side of Hux’s, and he leaned his chest against Hux’s back. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the proximity… He was fairly confident that Ren wouldn’t try and initiate sex whilst he was holding Anneke, but he had also thought that Ren wouldn’t beat him for the same reason, and the bruise on his face was a testament to where _that_ had left him.

“What are you doing?” Hux asked, uncertain, as he helped Anneke find the nipple. His mind was focused on the place where Ren’s hips met his, his chest tightening.

“Just watching,” Ren explained carelessly as he settled his chin against Hux’s neck, his head resting on Hux’s shoulder. “And trying to warm her to me.”

Ah, yes. Anneke’s (justifiable and reasonable) fear of him. “Has it been working?” He asked, as casually as he could manage.

Ren sighed, his hands coming to rest on Hux’s upper arms, holding him in place. “It’s hard to say… She certainly doesn’t trust me.”

Well, whilst Anneke was certainly wary, she at least wasn’t screaming bloody murder, anymore. So Ren’s presence was, at the very least, being tolerated. “It looks as though she’s calmer,” He said tentatively. “I’m sure that you can win her trust again, in time.” He was careful not to mention how he’d lost that trust in the first place – being openly critical of his physical punishments might invite more of the same.

“Hmm,” Ren hummed, his hands squeezing Hux’s arms briefly.

_What the hell is he thinking?_ Hux wondered, acutely aware of his vulnerability in this moment. Officially on-shift, half-dressed, being embraced by the Supreme Leader and _breastfeeding_ a child that (hopefully) very few knew existed – it was far from the position that he wanted to be in.

Ren didn’t say any more, and Hux wasn’t willing to risk angering him, so they sat in silence for the time that it took for Anneke to feed. Hux’s exhaustion started to overcome him, and he wished dearly for another stim, but he was uncertain what Ren’s reaction to that would be, and thus abstained. The result was that he began to lean back onto Ren, letting the hulk brace his weight, allowing himself the chance to relax for a few moments…

 

* * *

 

 

Hux had fallen asleep against him.

It had been hard not to pick up on the General’s altered state of mind – his lack of sleep was severely impacting his thoughts and feelings, and it had reached a point where there was no way to deny it; the man was beyond sleep-deprived. Ren yawned in sympathy, unable to fully draw away from the exhaustion emanating from the man leaning on him.

He used the force to hold Hux’s arms in place to hold Anneke, allowing her to drink to her heart’s content as her birth-father rested.

He had been in Hux’s rooms since he’d received the message from Hux, and had been trying to acclimate her to his presence.

She had cried a lot, at first, but the few hours that they had spent together had definitely made a considerable chink in the impression that she had of him as a dangerous killing machine.

She still shied away from his presence in the force, but she no longer screamed because he was in the same room as her. It was remarkable progress, all things considered.

It had taken hours of holding objects above her with the force and distracting her from the fact that he was there, as well as carefully controlling his emotions to ensure that nothing resembling anger bled through – as soon as he slipped, she would slip right back into viewing him as a threat, and that was simply not an option.

It had not been easy. It was the complete opposite of everything that he had been taught by Snoke, of everything that he had been doing to increase his powers for the last fifteen-odd years. Where once he channelled his pain and rage into strength, now he had to avoid those feelings at all costs. It was been… A shock to the system, to say the least. He was almost surprised that he had been able to use the force at all, suppressing the very feelings that he’d been relying on.

But it was working, so he would continue.

Anneke was looking at him, he realised. Her eyes met his over Hux’s shoulder, and she stopped suckling for a moment, letting the nipple slip from her gums. She looked up at him as though assessing him, then her chin wrinkled and her bottom lip wobbled, and he rushed to distract her with something…

He summoned Hux’s datapad from his greatcoat, and had it hover in front of his face, blocking her view of him. Then he turned on the screen, letting its glow distract her.

It seemed to work – he couldn’t hear her crying, so he assumed that the crisis had been averted. Peeking over Hux’s other shoulder, he caught a glimpse of her staring at Hux’s face, wiggling with discontent.

Subtly edging into her mind, he detected many things. Chiefly her ongoing hunger, an undercurrent of her fear of him, but also frustration… Something about the situation was profoundly _irritating_ to her.

He used the force to shift her back to Hux’s chest, and she tried suckling again, but all that did was increase her frustration. She turned her head to the side and cried, no tears, just a cry for assistance in resolving her struggles. _Of course – she needs to switch sides!_

He carefully manipulated her in the air, and she stopped crying as she floated above Hux’s arms and spun slowly around. Every ounce of control he had was poured into ensuring that her head was supported as she was lifted. Once she was correctly oriented, he lowered her back into Hux’s arms, and adjusted her so that she could reach her meal.

She was quite happy to continue her lunch, now.

“There you go,” He whispered, wary both of the sleeping General in his arms, and letting Anneke focus on her meal.

Today was proof that he could convince Anneke that he wasn’t a threat, perhaps even return her to the days when she had been _excited_ to see him, to sense him. It would take time, and dedication to suppressing his violent impulses, suppressing a lifetime’s worth of teachings… But he would try, for her.

Perhaps by the time they had their next child, he would be the master of his emotions.

Hux stirred, his head lolling to the side, leaving his cheek pressed against Ren’s. Ren didn’t bother moving, letting Hux settle against him. It was almost nice, to imagine that Hux might trust him enough to allow such a thing were he conscious. He never would, of course. And the man had some sort of aversion to physical touch outside of sex that Ren had never found a parallel in anywhere in the universe, so it was hardly some sort of goal that he could aspire to. The only time that they could cuddle like this, apparently, was when Hux was semi-delirious or unconscious.

He could enjoy this for now, however. He hadn’t been able to be this close to Anneke without her crying, but Hux’s presence imbued her with a sense of calm and safety that ran inversely proportionate to her fear.

He let the datapad fall slowly back to the bed, snuggling his chin back into Hux’s neck. Hux was well and truly dead to the world, and didn’t so much as stir as Ren adjusted himself. As he watched Anneke feed, he could almost imagine that this was what it was like to have a _family_.

He felt something stir in the force, and for a moment he glanced at Anneke, but she was feeding with her eyes closed, fingers flexing idly. It almost felt like-

_No!_

“Ben!” Rey cried, sounding surprised. Her eyes were wide, and she was gaping stupidly at him.

_Could she see-?_ “Can you see my surroundings?” He demanded.

She shook her head, but seemed intrigued nonetheless. “Why? Is there something that you need to tell me?”

Ren breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she remained unaware of his child. “No, but I believe that there is something that you need to tell _me_ ,” He said, recalling their last conversation. “Did you speak with Leia?”

“Yes, Ben, I spoke to your _mother_ ,” She said lightly. “She said some very interesting things.” Rey pinned him in place with the strength of her gaze.

“… Such as?” Ren pressed, desperate for any word that would help him to understand Anneke, and especially her connection to Hux. Perhaps he could break their connection, and put himself in Hux’s place in Anneke’s mind…?

“Your mother said that she could sense you in the womb, before you were even born,” Rey said gently, hugging her arms to herself. “She said that she could feel when you were grumpy, or tired, or happy, or scared. That when you were born, it didn’t end, that she could always tell your mood.”

That sounded like a greater connection that even Hux had – he seemed ignorant of Anneke’s feelings unless she was directly controlling him.

Odd, then, that he couldn’t seem to recall every having such a connection to her at all. Was it something that faded with age…?

Rey seemed to regard him with pity now, as she went on, “But she noticed that sometimes, something… Interfered with your connection. Sometimes, it would stutter, or disappear, and she wasn’t sure why… You were her first, she thought that it was just normal.”

He could tell that Rey was excited about something, she had an aura about her as though she were about to drop a bombshell, a world-shattering piece of intel. “It wasn’t until years later that she realised what had been happening.”

Ren leaned forward a little, tilting Hux upright as he sat at attention.

“By the time that you were three, she said that she could barely sense the connection anymore. But now she knows why it disappeared, and I think that you ought to know,” She took a deep breath. “It was _Snoke_.”

Rage flashed through him, making his world shudder momentarily, and he was aware of the sound of shattering glass from the refresher – a sign that he had lashed out with the force in his rage.

Anneke immediately started bawling, screeching so loud that Ren worried that she might be hurting her voice. Hux startled awake, nearly leaping to his feet, but was held in place by Ren’s hands.

Ren glanced worriedly to Rey, dreading the possibility that she had heard Anneke’s cries, but she was already gone.

“Wha-?” Hux slurred, arms tightening around Anneke as he regained his bearings. “Why is-?”

“Shh,” Ren buried his face into Hux’s neck, eyes prickling with tears as hours of his bonding time with Anneke were unravelled in a single moment. “Shh.”

Hux wriggled uncomfortably, perhaps not enjoying Ren’s hold on him, but Ren did not want to let go just yet. He was mired in self-loathing over his misstep, but the thought that Snoke had not only manipulated his relationship with Rey, but with his _own mother_ on such a _deep_ level? The thought that he’d been so connected to his mother, a connection that he now witnessed on some level between his own daughter and Hux, only to have it torn asunder by that _cretinous, barbarous_ -

He stopped himself before the rage could overcome him again, but that left only a searing pain, a hurt that manifested as more than emotion, but a physical pain, tearing at his chest from within, closing his throat and choking him, pounding in his head like a migraine.

“Ren?” Hux whispered, only audible over Anneke’s screams due to their closeness.

“ _Shhh_ ,” Ren repeated, unable to speak yet. He just wanted to hold, be held, and let the tumultuous storm inside of him pass.

Hux went still, not even moving to comfort Anneke, though there was little, it seemed, that could be done for her, in this moment.

After a few minutes, after Anneke’s panic had receeded to mere confusion, and her cries had quieted, he peeled himself away from Hux and scooted backwards, rolling off the bed and leaving the room. If he wanted to let out his anger, he would have to do it somewhere else, somewhere Anneke wouldn’t be able to sense it.

Hux remained on the bed, Anneke held loosely in his arms, dishevelled and left feeling entirely unmoored.


	14. Chapter 14

Ren was in the training room, beating the living daylights out of a punching bag. He’d have preferred to be smashing Snoke’s brittle frame to pieces, but this would have to do – he could take solace in the knowledge that it was _his_ hand that Snoke had met his demise at.

It did little to quell the rage burning within him at the revelation of the depth of his violation.

The tang of salt hit his tongue as he roared at the bag, sweat and tears melding into a bitter mixture, his muscles straining with the effort of his continuous strikes.

He had been in here for nearly an hour, and he hadn’t let up since he’d arrived.

Perhaps he should have burnt out by now… But the more that he thought about it, the greater his rage became.

What if someone had tried to sever the link between himself and Anneke? He’d kill them, slowly, without hesitation or mercy. And yet, the creature that he’d sworn his _life_ to had done the same to his connection with _his_ mother?! It was – It was-

He screamed again, his rage pouring out through his lungs, straining his vocal chords. His fists flew rapidly, smacking against the bag with continuous dull _thwacks._

And he’d thought to do the _very same thing_ to Anneke, sever her tie to Hux…

It didn’t bear thinking about. He couldn’t do that to her, knowing what he knew, now. Though he might disapprove of Hux as a parental figure for his daughter, he now knew that he would never be able to force him from her life, if she chose to keep him.

He tried not to think about how his mother’s – _No, just Leia, you’re not Ben_ – words had been true, this whole time. Snoke had deliberately put a wedge between them, had been doing so for years.

It had sounded insane when she had first said it, in a coded message the moment that the Resistance had managed to track down his whereabouts. But he’d already been under Snoke’s tutelage for years, had listened when the old man had explained that she was just trying to manipulate him now that she realised his true power…

He’d never wanted to be manipulated for his powers – he’d worked so hard to master them so as never to fear being manipulated by another, by always being the one in control.

More the fool, him. He’d been manipulated from before _birth_.

He would have to watch out for Anneke, for any malevolent force that might try and isolate her, control her, deceive her…

It was a damn shame that she wanted Hux around, as it was hard to imagine a more controlling, manipulative being than the prick who called himself the General of the First Order. That said, if he wanted to have more children, he supposed it couldn’t hurt to allow Hux to tend to them. He would make it _clear_ what would happen if the man opted to ever use one of them as a bargaining chip.

His arms had grown weary some time ago, but he kept up his barrage, trying to work through his feelings… He would not be fit to hold Anneke until he had worked out the majority of his rage, thus preventing it from simmering until it unexpectedly burst. Though before such an undercurrent of fury had proven to be a rich vein to draw in power from, it was too great a risk to Anneke. He would have to find another method to increase his strength, but that was for later. His first priority was convincing Anneke that he was not a danger to her…

He let himself collapse, falling to his knees and arms dropping to his side. His ribcage expanded and contracted rapidly, his lungs struggling to take in enough air, sweat-slick hair clinging to his face. He had known for some time, now, that Snoke was a manipulative being, that Ben had struggled with the path that he had allowed himself to be led down… But not until Anneke had he considered the boy that Ben Solo had been.

To think of Anneke growing into a caring, compassionate child, and convincing her that she was weak, alone, a freak, unlovable, and being _taken_ from him…

It made it all too real.

When Snoke had been alive, he had been forbidden from even _thinking_ about the name Ben Solo. Now, he could ruminate on all of the ways that he had failed that boy. How he had failed his mother. His f _ath_ -

No, he couldn’t think about that, now. That was too much.

He longed to be held, but the only arms on the ship that could do so belonged to a being who was deathly afraid of him.

 

* * *

 

 

Hux had allowed himself some time to sort out his affairs. He didn’t trust anyone on the bridge crew at the moment, but he had left explicit orders to be informed of any significant developments, and he was reasonably confident that Mitaka, at least, would heed such orders. Even _if_ the man was only feeding him information to gain his trust as part of some larger plot, at the very least, the immediate needs of the First Order would not be sacrificed.

In the meantime, however, Hux opted to serve himself. His brief nap had not given him much energy, but another stim attained from Met-X5 (still conveniently tinkering in the refresher) helped to give him the needed push to persevere.

First, he had scoured the room for bugs, of which he could find none. Nan-E3’s sensors also couldn’t pick up anything, around his room, on his person, in his refresher and side-room, or on any of the droids present. Thus, he was confident that he was not being monitored here, at the very least.

As such, he allowed the Nan-E droid to pump him, which was a _singularly unpleasant_ experience. Placing a pump to one’s nipple squeezing out milk was just as discomforting as it sounded, and he was still not producing a great deal. The little bottles only had forty millilitres each.

“You have just fed Anneke, so do not be disheartened,” The Nan-E droid consoled him. “You will produce more over time, and can express again.”

“I _can’t_ , actually, I may be required on the bridge for several hours, even days, at a time over the course of the next few weeks,” Hux said sharply, glaring at the droid. “I require a solution to this issue that _doesn’t_ involve dragging me away from my duties every few hours.”

The droid hummed, thoughtful. “Now that we are over a planet, perhaps it is time to order formula, then,” It suggested. “I can prepare it, and you can choose to express, or stop expressing and stop your milk production.”

 _That_ sounded _heavenly_ – No more breastmilk leaking from his chest? No more soreness, no more leakages, no more suckling? However, “I do not want a paper trail leading to myself regarding the ordering of infant formula,” Hux informed it. “We will have to arrange to have it brought onboard, but list it as another item. Ensure that it reaches me without being detected by anything or anyone. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” The droid intoned.

The bottles were placed in a tiny refrigeration unit in Nan-E3’s chest cavity for future use. Anneke slumbered peacefully on the bed, atop a heat pack to keep her cosy, wearing a fresh cloth diaper as she’d recently soiled another. She was doing so with alarming frequency, though the droid assured him that she was supposed to.

“Perhaps it is time to get her something to wear that she can’t soak through, as well,” He said, watching her tiny chest rise and fall beneath her little pillowcase-dress.

“I will include disposable diapers in the order for formula, and will ensure that they are not logged as such,” Nan-E3 responded dutifully.

The new Nan-E3 was, so far, much preferable. He redressed himself, glad to have the warmth of the tunic envelop him once more now that he was empty, sitting himself at his desk at last. He summoned a few mouse droids, under the pretence of floor cleaning, and while he waited for them, prepared his tools to _upgrade_ their processors.

He was distracted from the task by a chime from his door, which he assumed was Ren – until he glanced at his datapad. He was glad that he did, because he had nearly opened the door to prevent Ren damaging it with his pfaasking powers. Fortunately, he didn’t, because it was actually _Mitaka_.

“Take Anneke into the refresher, and stay there until I order you out,” Hux said to the droid, which immediately moved to obey.

 _If only one could install loyalty programming in biological life-forms_ , he thought as he watched it obey. _Oh, well, that’s what reconditioning is for._

“Hello,” He heard Met-X5 greet Nan-E3 as it entered with a semi-awake Anneke clutched to its chest. The refresher door closed on them, allowing Hux to open the door to his Lieutenant.

“Sir,” Mitaka greeted, striding into the room.

“Lieutenant,” Hux responded, rising out of his chair. “This is a surprise.”

Mitaka looked at the floor, looking oddly ashamed. “I did not mean to presume, sir, but I thought to inform you of the situation on Perithal."

“Oh? Please do,” Hux’s eyes darted to where Mitaka was carefully rolling back his sleeve. “The room is secure,” He assured him. “There’s no need for that.”

Mitaka nodded, straightening his uniform sleeve. “Good, because I did not come to update you on Perithal,” He said, and Hux felt a thrill of anticipation run through him.

“Then what have you come to me about?” Hux asked, hoping that he didn’t appear too eager.

“The situation on the _Liberator_ , sir.”

Hux gave him a tight smile. “Why don’t you take a seat, Lieutenant,” He said, nodding to the low couch.

Mitaka regarded it for a moment, as though uncertain whether or not he should. But his jaw tightened as he made a decision, stiffly marching to the seat and sitting rigidly in place.

Hux opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, idly pulling one out and holding it between his teeth, before coming over to the seat and offering Mitaka one.

The man stared at it in shock for a moment, before looking up at Hux in wonder. “Thank you, sir,” He said, plucking one from the box.

“No need for formalities right now, Lieutenant,” Hux said casually around the cigarette. “You have permission to speak freely.”

Mitaka flinched like a frightened animal when Hux clicked on a lighter to ignite the cigarette in his mouth, before extending the small flame to his subordinate. The man kept his back straight as he leaned forward, letting the tip of the cigarette brush the small flame. He didn’t even blink until he sat back on the couch, retaining his awkwardly formal posture, but now with a lit cigarette sending idle curls of smoke into the air around him.

Hux took a seat beside him, drawing on the cigarette as he did so, exhaling softly and letting the smoke rise around him as he sat back in the chair and got comfortable. Apparently he couldn’t order Mitaka to relax, but he could try and lead by example, at the very least. He did worry that if he relaxed too much, he might drift back to sleep – but there was little to do but grin and bear it.

The Lieutenant seemed unable to break the silence, eyes furtively dancing around the room, sometimes landing on Hux before darting away again, as though to look upon the General in anything other than a purely professional manner were a cardinal sin. Hux opted to do it for him.

“Before you report to me, I actually wanted to ask you a few questions,” Hux said seriously, reflecting on the medbay incident.

“Oh?” Mitaka seemed surprised, clutching the cigarette he’d been given tightly. “Please, ask anything.”

“When you came to visit me in the medbay, did you… _Notice_ anything?” He asked carefully, watching Mitaka closely for his reaction.

Mitaka coughed, face flushing red, before muttering, “Do you mean the _lingerie_ …?” Mitaka quickly puffed on the cigarette, a clear attempt to distract himself.

Hux held himself very still for a moment, a jolt of anxiety shooting adrenalin through him. So, Mitaka _had_ noticed the straps on the bacta device. “Well, other than… My attire,” He corrected, feeling warmth in his own face.

“Uh…” Mitaka paused, thinking. “Well, I mean… I did think that I saw… I mean, I am correct in thinking that there was a…” He paused again, giving Hux a sheepish look. “… A _baby_?”

And the blood that had rushed to Hux’s face suddenly drained from it. He’d realised, of course, that Mitaka had been standing in the doorway only metres away from her, but that didn’t make the knowledge that Mitaka _knew_ about Anneke’s existence any easier to swallow. At the very least, he didn’t know any of the details of _how_ she came to exist.

“And what do you _make_ of that?” Hux asked as he brought his cigarette back to his lips.

Mitaka looked like a cadet who’d come to class only to see there was a test that he hadn’t studied for. “I… A love child?” He tried, his face falling as though he regretted saying that aloud. “I mean… That’s what I _assumed_ …”

 _Well, a love-hate child_ , Hux thought privately, thinking on his relationship with Ren.

The couch cushion moved as Mitaka shifted slightly, rolling his cigarette in between his fingers. “Is the mother… Still in the picture?” He asked tentatively.

Hux didn’t think that it was worth making up a fictional woman, largely just glad that Mitaka didn’t know of Hux’s peculiar _gender situation_ , so simply replied, “No.”

“Oh,” Mitaka actually looked a little pleased at that, which Hux found surprising. Perhaps he was digging for dirt, after all…? Why else would the man be pleased to think that Hux had sired a bastard child that no longer had a mother?

“I had another question,” Hux said, eyes narrowing. He held the cigarette over the arm of the couch, tapping on it to let the ash fall to the floor, eyes never leaving Mitaka’s. “Why _is_ it that you are reporting these things to me?”

Mitaka stared back, looking utterly sincere as he answered, “Because I am loyal to you, sir.”

No officer was loyal for loyalty’s sake, and Hux was determined to get a real answer. “And why are you loyal? What benefit do you reap from this endeavour? I’m sure that Peavey and Ingham have plans that I am not privy to, but what is it that _you_ want to achieve by risking yourself to inform me?” He pressed. It was in moments like this that he wished he had Ren to report to him what his officers were thinking.

Mitaka inhaled deeply, eyes closing for a moment as he had some internal debate on how much to reveal. “I… Have personal disagreements with Peavey, and know that I would not do well under his command,” He settled on.

Hux remained silent, watching Mitaka squirm, until the man felt pressured to continue. “I have certain… _Proclivities_ that he doesn’t approve of.”

 _Did he, now?_ “And what might those proclivities _be_?”

The man bit his lip, looking simultaneously mortified and hopeful. “ _Masculine_ ,” He said firmly, forgotten cigarette poking out from white knuckles, dropping ash onto the floor.

Hux could read between the lines. Same-sex relationships were _more_ than frowned upon in the First Order, given the dire need of children – there wasn’t room to allow for selfish desire to override the material needs of the organisation as a whole. As such, procreative relationships were a must – and the consequent ideology of the immoral, unnatural nature of such relations was a core tenant of the organisation. To have the inclinations that Hux – and, obviously, Mitaka – had was… Well… It was certainly punishable. It was absolutely a death knell for career progression, although Hux was quite sure that his relationship to the Supreme Leader didn’t quite fit that description. Aside from perhaps using one’s hands and mouth on a superior to gain a favour (which he had never been above doing) in secret, it was simply not tolerated.

“I understand,” Hux said, meeting Mitaka’s eyes and trying to say with his eyes, _No, really, I understand._

The way that the Lieutenant’s tight shoulders suddenly softened and posture sagged, he was surprised that the man didn’t _faint_ with relief. No wonder, given the magnitude of the revelation. It was no surprise that Peavey held tightly to such values, given that the Empire had held similar beliefs. He’d been a friend of Brendol, too, who had been a particularly rabid enforcer of such “morals”.

There was, of course, always the possibility that Mitaka was working for Peavey, taking advantage of the rumours and speculation about Hux himself to try and plant a spy in whatever inner circle Hux could cohere around himself. But that was why he needed Ren and his own surveillance methods, to distinguish between friend and foe. For now, best to get what he could from Mitaka.

“So am I right in thinking that Ingham is the tip of a rather nasty iceberg?” He said, letting Mitaka process that for a moment by taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Mitaka nodded dolefully. “I suspect that is the case, sir,” The Lieutenant said. “I know that there has been talk amongst the officers aboard the _Liberator_ of some sort of rejection of the ‘ _weaknesses of the Empir_ e’, but,” he shrugged, awkwardly, “it’s hard to say what is just talk, and what is worth paying attention to.”

Hux tried not to show how interested he was, but he couldn’t help but tilt his head towards Mitaka, eyes alight. “And where did you hear this talk? You’ve never served on the _Liberator_.”

“A… Childhood friend serves there, sir,” He stated, deliberately ambiguous. “He and I keep in contact.”

“Oh? Anyone I know?” Hux inquired casually, leaning a little closer to Mitaka again, desperate for information.

Mitaka _blushed_. Probably an old flame, then. “I don’t believe so, sir, n-no,” He stuttered. Given his “proclivities”, Hux could see why Mitaka wanted to keep his relationship a secret.

“So, what has this _friend_ of yours heard?”

“Only what the officers feel comfortable saying in the lounge,” He said, seemingly unable to look away from Hux’s eyes now.

The sustained eye contact was, in fact, a little unsettling to Hux, but he let it slide. He felt that he were close to a breakthrough in understanding the nature of whatever conspiracy Ingham represented.

“Ingham left the base frequently with a coterie of officers,” Mitaka said in a hushed voice, and Hux had to lean in even closer to hear him – their knees were brushing lightly, they were sitting so near.

Mitaka swallowed, throat bobbing. “He said - They often left for a few days at a time, and always came back in good spirits. It was rarely listed as an official mission, or leave… He has his suspicions about where they were going, but as that’s all the information that I have, I will have to contact him again to be sure…”

Hux clasped a gloved hand on Mitaka’s shoulder, causing the man to jump halfway out of his skin. “Excellent!” He said buoyantly, going so far as to pat Mitaka’s shoulder. The Lieutenant’s blush reached his neck, skin all but glowing. “This is exactly what I needed to hear today – when can you next reach out to your contact? Does he think anyone suspects him of informing outsiders of their activities? How close is he to the officers in question?” He kept his hand on Mitaka’s shoulder, as though to hold him in place, as it seemed like the man could vibrate out of his skin if Hux didn’t hold him still.

“Uh…” Mitaka exuded anxiety, but somehow managed to maintain that unrelenting eye contact. He was looking at Hux as though he’d never seen him before.

“Lieutenant?” Hux pressed, unconsciously inching closer in anticipation.

Mitaka’s eyes suddenly broke contact with his, darting down to look at Hux’s lips, before meeting his gaze again.

_Oh._

In a single moment, several things clicked together to form a coherent picture. He didn’t think he was imagining it, the man seemed to be _interested_ in him.

He tested the waters a little, allowing the hand still on Mitaka’s shoulder to slide down to his upper arm, resting gently around the bicep.

Mitaka’s expression was suddenly one of bewildered delight, looking down at where Hux’s glove pressed into his uniform jacket.

Well, that was _one_ way to garner information and engender loyalty. It wouldn’t be hard to lead him on, or even touch him, should it come down to that.

“Mitaka?” He said tenderly, rubbing the Lieutenant’s shoulder with his thumb gently. It occurred to him then that he had never before said Mitaka’s name outside of barking orders at him – even then, he generally referred to him as “Lieutenant”. It was odd, to speak it so informally now. “When can you next contact this friend of yours?”

“As-as soon as possible, sir!” He blurted, his hands clenched into tight fists over his knees, cigarette peeking out from between his fingers.

“Wonderful,” Hux purred. “Well done, Lieutenant… Report to me directly the moment you know more.”

And with that, he peeled himself away, stretching a little as though the few minutes seated had been hours. He didn’t miss the way that Mitaka’s whole body subtly dipped towards where he’d been, as though to follow his movement, subconsciously chasing the warm hand on his arm, the light brush of his knee.

“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant,” Hux said easily, smiling at the way that Mitaka leapt to his feet and saluted, his chest puffed up as though he were ready and willing to take on the world.

Some people were simply too easy to manipulate, he mused, watching him leave. He could already feel Anneke trying to tug him back into the refresher, obviously having awoken, but he was in no hurry.

He couldn’t help but feel a little exhilarated by the man’s attentions. It made him feel… _Desired_. Like he was something valuable, coveted, like he was _wanted_. It felt _good_.

By the time he had seen to Anneke and brought her out of the refresher, (noting with confusion the empty space where the glass panel in front of the water shower had been) the mouse droids had arrived, all twelve of them. He set to work wrapping Anneke to his chest so as to free his hands and begin their reprogramming, confidence rising.

He was fairly confident that Mitaka’s loyalties were based on something carnal in nature, but it wouldn’t hurt to have evidence that he wasn’t in cahoots with anyone else. And there were many others on board who would need to have a visit from a surveillance-mouse droid.

Soon, he would have a much clearer picture of just what he was up against.

 

* * *

 

 

Hux returned to the bridge feeling triumphant, having left in his quarters a sated Anneke sleeping off her milk stupor and a set of ready-to-use mouse surveillance droids that were completely under his control.

He brought himself back up to date on the situation by throwing himself into the reports that had come in, and was pleased to note that the Ged Forster character had, indeed, managed to divert the workers’ demonstration in Rathin away from its planned route through the industrial centre, thus cutting off the radical workers from those who remained in their factories. Instead he’d marched them to the capital building, where he’d made a speech demanding free and fair elections so that the people of Perithal VI could decide who lead them.

That was less than ideal, of course, but elections could be rigged, whereas a generalised revolt required a great deal more resources to deal with.

Within two hours, they had an incoming transmission from the man himself.

“Secretary,” Hux greeted the holocall, hands clasped behind his back beneath the coat draped over his shoulders.

“General,” Forster said cheerfully. “You may have noticed that our federation has successfully prevented the workers from taking very drastic action.” He had such a smug sense of pride about him.

“Yes,” Hux tilted his head, appearing thoughtful. “But I did find it rather alarming, Secretary, that one of the speakers on the platform called for another demonstration to take place tomorrow?”

Forster was unperturbed. “A consequence of the radicalisation of the populace, I’m afraid,” He explained, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Unavoidable, and we _did_ try and prevent it-“

“But you did _not_ manage to,” Hux interrupted, glaring at him. “And now we will have to face this whole debacle again tomorrow, potentially with an even greater number of rabble on the streets.”

“Yes, but I will be leading that march, as well,” Forster was quick to reply. “And I will not allow there to be arguments advocating for workplace takeovers or democratic committees, or what have you. I have utter confidence in the state apparatus to lead Perithal, and I am certain that I can imbue our populace with such a sentiment, as well.”

Hux raised a brow at him. “And how might you do that?”

“We’ve already put out the call for democratic elections,” He explained. “And I would invite you to speak with our organisation further about the potential for a centrist political party that includes members of the Trade Union Federation – the workers will be satisfied if they feel that their demands are being met in the Congress, but will continue their _radicalism_ if not provided some solution in the coming days.”

The man said the work “radicalism” like Hux said “republic”. On that, at least, they could agree.

The proposal to delay the workers from taking drastic action by staging elections was a promising one that could, indeed, halt the tide. With the support of this federation’s leadership, it might be enough to lead the movement to ruin, thus positioning Perithal to be dominated more surely by the First Order.

But it was not certain, and the details of exactly how much political power the federation was aiming for and how useful their alliance would be remained in question.

“I propose that we meet,” Forster went on, “A contingent of your leadership with ours, in a mutually agreeable location to discuss the possibility of elections.”

Hux could not see another option available, not when Iseno had been hounding them with questions over what they planned to do about the situation on Perithal, or when Denon was threatening to send troops in to put down the struggle – and potentially kick the First Order out, if that’s what it took to reign in a struggle that might spread to the workers of Denon.

“We will send you a location and have a ship pick you up. We will send you proposals for the times that suit us. Confirm a time and meet us at the rendezvous point,” Hux asserted, and Forster lit up before managing to reassert a diplomatic politician’s persona.

“Thank you, sir,” Forster said, but before he could cut the call, Hux cleared his throat.

“I warn you, though, that if you don’t manage to reign in these ruffians,” He let his voice drop lower, words dripping with venom, “Your usefulness to us will have ended, and we will seek another, more _lethal_ , course.”

He waved to Peavey to cut the call, and the holo of Forster disappeared.

He moved to stand at his desk again, but stopped dead in his tracks as he felt another tug on his mind.

_No._

This was going to drive him mad, and certainly going to lose him any credibility amongst the officers. Anneke was a little demon, and he needed a solution to her meddling in his head sooner rather than later.

He needed to schedule an officers meeting, too, to discuss their orientation to the changing situation on Perithal; there would be debate about what to do, and he’d be damned if Peavey opted to try and force him to shoulder the blame should it all go belly-up. No, done right, an officer’s meeting would not only ensure that his officers were on board with the plan, but assert that they had equal responsibility for its success or failure.

He tapped the instructions into his datapad, also writing a message to Ren to meet him in his rooms. Anneke was tugging forcefully now, leaving him feeling dizzy, desperate to remain on the bridge.

“Peavey,” Hux approached the man, voice low so as to not attract too much attention.

The man turned in his chair to regard Hux. “Yes, sir?”

“You have the bridge,” He said quietly, strained. The sense of isolation, loss, none of it his own, was slowing his thoughts to a trickle.

“Really, sir?” Peavey commented, and Hux only just managed to stop his jaw from dropping. “Is something wrong? With your health, perhaps?”

Hux leaned in close to the man, drawing on all of his strength to ignore Anneke for a moment to hiss at his impudent subordinate, “There will be a problem with _your_ health if you question me in this way, Peavey. I act under the orders of the _Supreme Leader_.”

Peavey didn’t react, remained still and calm. “I only ask out of concern, sir,” He said back, voice overly loud. “I shouldn’t like to think of what a state we’d be in if anything _happened_ to you, and you have appeared to have been injured and unwell since the Starkiller incident. I’m sure that you wouldn’t leave the bridge at such a key moment without good reason.”

Hux didn’t like this at all. None of the other officers or techs were looking their way, but he knew that every pair of ears in the room was listening intently to their conversation. That was, surely, what Peavey was banking on – undermining him in front of the crew, using his frequent absences as evidence that he was incapable of leading. He didn’t let his apprehension show on his face.

“Watch yourself, Captain,” He hissed. Then a little louder, “If you’d prefer, I can promote _you_ to the position of official liaison with our Supreme Leader?”

Peavey grimaced before he could school his expression, and Hux smirked. But Anneke was still tugging on his mind. His continued drowsiness added an extra pressure that seemed to strengthen her hold on him, and he could wait no longer.

Before Peavey could respond, he swept out into the hall, hoping against hope that Ren would be there to begin his lessons in how to resist the force. The terrible ramifications of Anneke’s hold on him were already manifesting.

 

* * *

 

 

Ren lay on his back in the training room, chest heaving, the room in ruins around him. His rage had been burnt through, and though he would once have rekindled it to draw power from, now he simply let the emotions simmering beneath it surface.

Greif. Heartache. Regret. Despair. It left his body feeling hollow, yet somehow heavy at the same time. He felt sluggish and wrung out, and it had very little to do with the vigorous work-out from beating the punching bag past its breaking point.

He wanted to turn to the rage, to the dark, wanted so desperately to feel anything other than _this_ – only picturing Anneke’s distraught little face was enough to leave him to wallow instead in this torturous brew of everything he’d tried so hard to suppress.

He could have stayed there for hours, if not for the door whooshing open, allowing a certain irate General to enter the room.

“Supreme Leader,” Hux announced imperiously. “Have you received my messages?”

He had not. He had been lying on the floor covered in sweat and tears, and he was quite sure that his datapad had fallen victim to the same vicious outburst that had lain waste to the room around him. The punching bag alone had not been enough, and there were dents in the wall were he had hurled weights into them, and pieces of training mats littered to floor like confetti.

He didn’t seem to have the ability yet to respond to Hux, so he let his silence answer for him.

“I see that you have been training?” Hux ventured, eyeing the mess with distaste. “I can arrange for a droid to clean this up.”

Ren sighed and pulled himself to a sitting position, muttering, “What do you want?”

Hux took a few tentative steps towards him, stepping delicately around the shards of metal that had once been some form of exercise machine. “I wanted to begin our lessons, as a matter of urgency,” He said, standing just outside of arm’s reach.

Kylo rubbed at his brow, thumb and forefinger kneading away the ache in his head. “ _What_ lessons?” He asked from behind his hand.

“To repel Anneke’s force powers, when she uses them against me,” Hux clarified. "She has once again used her abilities to draw me away from my duties." Ren couldn’t help but huff a laugh at that.

He let his hand run down his face, wiping away the remaining tear streaks, amazed that Hux could characterise Anneke’s innocent love and desire to be near him as ‘ _powers she uses against me_ ’. What he wouldn’t give, to have her view him the same way…

But rather than reigniting his anger, Hux’s words only served to deepen the hollow sensation in his chest. Somehow, at this moment, the thought of being alone seemed worse than being alone with Hux, and what could it hurt to examine Hux’s mind under the guise of teaching him? It was beyond unlikely that Hux carried some as-yet-untapped force powers – neither Kylo nor even Snoke had ever detected such from him. He was, altogether, unremarkable… Save for his link to Anneke.

“Alright,” He said, waving a hand at the floor beside him. “Take a seat, class is starting.”

Hux seemed taken aback. “Are… Are you in a state conducive to teaching?” He ventured, not moving closer. “If you need more time to…”

Ren could sense him thinking “ _calm down_ ,” as well as the understanding that it would be unwise to say those words allowed.

“Sit,” He commanded, and Hux hesitantly obeyed.

Kylo sat himself up a little straighter, drawing his legs in and crossing them. He was amused when Hux mimicked him, apparently taking the movement as an instruction.

“Where do we begin?” Hux asked. He was sitting in front of Kylo, facing him, and Kylo couldn’t help but notice the way that his skin sagged, and how his pallor was accentuated by the dark circles lining his eyes. He had clearly put a little make-up on his face, as well, but it had rubbed off a little to reveal a purple bruise in the distinct shape of Kylo’s hand on his cheek.

The bruise that represented the moment that Anneke had lost her love of him, had seen his darker side and been repelled.

“I...” Lost for words, he reached out and touched the marks on Hux’s cheek. Hux stiffened, but didn’t move, allowing Kylo to trace the outline of it.

“Is this…” Hux cleared his throat. “Is this part of the instruction?”

Kylo pulled his hand away, too deep in misery to feel foolish. “Open your mind to me,” He commanded, instead of answering.

Hux grimaced. “Is that _necessary_?” He ventured warily.

“Yes,” Kylo said, and it very well _might_ have been. Who was to say?

Hux didn’t appear convinced, however, bloodshot eyes regarding him with suspicion.

“Anneke’s control of you is strong, mine is not,” He tried. “To begin to resist her, let’s try and emulate her power over you, and see what you are capable of.” There, that sounded reasonable, plausible.

He watched Hux’s throat bob as he swallowed, and said, “Alright, then… How do I ‘ _open my mind_ ’?”

A good question. How to explain to a null the opening of yourself to the force? “Do you know what the force is?” He asked.

Hux seemed thrown. “The force? It’s a… Well, it’s a force, like… Gravity, or electricity, that some people can control via midichlorian cells, a genetic abnormality that-“

“No,” Kylo interrupted him. “That won’t help you to understand it, to open yourself to it. You need to know what it _feels_ like – what it _is_.”

“I can give you a series of equations to understand gravity,” Hux responded stiffly. “I can show you a diagram of a circuit, show the flow of electrons that produce an electric current. Don’t you have anything like _that_ to explain the force?”

“There are no equations for the force,” Ren snapped, already feeling exasperated.

“But I can’t _feel_ the damn thing,” Hux groused. “We have established that I’m not a force user, haven’t we? I can tell you what _gravity_ feels like, I can tell you what an _electric shock_ feels like, but you want me to know what your pfaasking powers feel like when I’ve never even-“

Ren tried to force himself into Hux’s mind, and Hux screamed, grasping at his head with both hands.

Flashes – Peavey’s smug, disgusting face, a bald man in a holocall that he didn’t recognise, Anneke suckling lightly, drinking much too slowly for his liking –

“ _Stop_!” Hux cried, and Kylo withdrew. Hux collapsed forward, holding himself up with his forearms, gasping for breath.

“How did _that_ feel?” Kylo asked.

“Like a _violation_ ,” Hux shot back, pushing himself back into a sitting position, several loose strands of his hair falling over his face.

“But it doesn’t _hurt_ with Anneke,” Kylo observed.

Hux nodded, unable to fully erase the contempt from his expression.

“Then it’s clear that she’s not having to force her way into your head, she’d already in there,” Kylo explained. “It never hurt with Snoke, unless he wanted it to.”

Hux looked surprised, eyes widening a fraction, at the admission. Kylo himself was surprised, as he hadn’t actually realised, until he vocalised it, that Snoke had been with him at all times. Deep inside his head, not pushing from _without_ , but pulling from _within_.

“Do you know what I saw, in your head?” Kylo asked Hux, curious to see how much his victim knew of what he’d taken. He’d never had occasion to ask the many prisoners he’d interrogated.

“Nothing – I could feel… _You_ , I suppose, but… I don’t know what you did,” Hux looked perturbed. “So how do I _stop_ you doing that?”

So, Hux _had_ felt him, or at least _thought_ that he had… He wasn’t sure what that meant. “It will be very different from stopping Anneke,” Kylo warned. “I could stop my knights from entering my mind, but not Snoke.”

Even saying his name left a foul taste in his mouth, and cause his anger to rear its head inside of him.

“So, wait, you’re saying that if she’s already in my head, I _can’t_ prevent her from controlling me?” Hux wilted, defeat pouring from him into the air around him.

“No,” Kylo corrected, “I’m saying that she’s deep enough that you can’t keep her out, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t _resist_ her control, even while she’s in there.”

Hux mulled over that thought, while Kylo had another idea.

“Why don’t I try to control you, and you try to resist _me_?” He asked.

Hux blanched, imagining the things that Kylo might make him do – painful, humiliating things. He might look like an uptight bureaucrat, but he _did_ have a rather vivid imagination at times.

“I will tell you what I am making you do as I do it,” He assured, though Hux didn’t stop his wild imaginings. “That way you will know what impulses to resist.”

He watched Hux’s chest expand as the General took a deep breath, gathering his resolve. “Alright, Ren,” He said at last. “Just… Do it.”

Ren probed into Hux’s mind, gently influencing him to lift his left arm. “Touch your nose,” He said aloud, as he commanded Hux to do so inside his head.

He watched Hux’s face contort in concentration, but he was powerless to prevent his index finger extending to tap his nose.

“Damnit!” Hux snapped, glaring hotly at his own arm as though it had betrayed him. He supposed that it had.

“How did that feel?” When Snoke had taken control of his movements from within, it had felt natural, even when it had been a punishment – even when he had been made to break his own bones, or provide for Snoke’s needs, it had felt like he was acting of his own accord.

Hux had closed his eyes, and Ren almost laughed when he glimpsed into Hux’s mind and found he was counting to ten, over and over, apparently in an attempt to reign in his temper. He was remarkably good at suppressing his emotions when he put his mind to it, none of his inner turmoil appearing on his face.

He opened his eyes, regarding Kylo coolly. “Like I raised my arm and touched my nose,” He said shortly. “I’m not sure how I could be expected to resist your commands, unless you have some method that intend to share…?”

The only methods that he had ever heard of required the force, but as it was doubtful that Hux would appreciate that, he instead suggested, “You should try meditating.”

Hux scoffed, then caught himself, awkwardly attempting to play it off as a cough. “Meditation, Ren? Shall I also have a day at a spa, a massage, perhaps?” Well, he wasn’t trying very hard to hide his derision.

“You need to strengthen your mind,” Kylo admonished, forcing Hux to tap his nose again. The man sputtered, indignant, as Kylo went on, “Would you try and lift a heavy weight before increasing your strength through physical training, building muscle? Your mind is untrained, so you should not expect to perform miracles.”

The analogy seemed to make sense to Hux. “Well, then… How does one meditate, then? Think happy thoughts?”

“Think _no_ thoughts,” Ren corrected, not missing Hux’s passing thought, _no wonder you’re so good at it, then_. He let it slide. Hux was closing his eyes and attempting to comply, so there was nothing to gain from haranguing him.

They sat in silence for a few moments, but Ren could feel Hux’s mind racing, unable to switch off.

“ _No_ thoughts,” he muttered, watching Hux’s nose twitch as he fought down an irritated grimace.

“That’s impossible, Ren,” Hux muttered back.

How could a man who had such control over himself have so little ability to calm his mind? Did his control really only on exist on such a surface level?

“Whenever you feel a thought come to the forefront of you mind, just gently nudge it aside,” Ren explained, feeling a blossom of amusement as he watched Hux struggle, both through watching him fight to maintain his composure physically, and peering into his mind to witness the struggle first-hand.

He could feel Hux’s frustration mounting, so he subtly assisted by repressing the little intrusive impulses that plagued the man. Little phrases, emotions, impressions - _useless boy_ , an intense shame at his failure, a sense of futility at the entire endeavour.

It was a little disconcerting, to see this side of the man. Nonetheless, his intervention had been fruitful, and Hux was managing to hold back the tide of his insecurities for a few moments.

When he was once again overwhelmed, he sagged, opening his eyes again. “That wasn’t as easy or relaxing as I had imagined when you said ‘meditating’,” he complained, running a hand through his hair.

“Practice that for an hour, at least, each day,” Ren instructed. That ought to help strengthen the man’s mind, even if only to help him regulate his moods. It would behove Anneke to have a calmer mother, anyway.

“An _hour_ , Ren?” Hux shook his head in disbelief. “Do you think that I _have_ a spare hour in a day?”

“Half an hour, then,” Ren conceded, letting his eyes roll at the General’s obstinacy. “Ten minutes, _some_ length of time. Each day. There is no shortcut to strengthening the mind, there is only the protracted road of dedication to training and fidelity to routine.”

Hux seemed less averse to such terms. “That… Sounds reasonable,” He seemed contemplative for a moment. “So, there is nothing more to do until I have strengthened my mind, then?”

Ren didn’t think even that would do terribly much, but he had spent a good deal of time simply exploring Hux’s thoughts without the man attacking him, so he opted to respond with, “Yes, let’s schedule another session in a few days, and see how you’ve progressed.”

The General looked satisfied with that outcome, rising to his feet. “I will do as you have instructed,” He said dutifully, though he seemed to sway a little on his feet. He still looked terrible, eyes sunken and clearly still suffering from the effects of sleep deprivation.

“Go and sleep,” He ordered on a whim, though judging by the look he got, Hux didn’t appreciate the favour.

“I have been away from the bridge too long,” He argued, moving to leave with a determined stride. He was prevented from making a dignified exit by his own exhaustion-induced lack of coordination, foot catching on a piece of debris from Ren’s earlier aggression, causing him to flail spectacularly, his long limbs splaying in a futile attempt to restore his balance.

He stopped falling before he made impact with the ground, lying nearly parallel to the floor, nose mere inches from the cold durasteel. Ren’s arm was outstretched towards him, and he slowly raised the man with his force-hold to a standing position.

“You need sleep,” Ren observed. What could convince the man to heed his advice? “You are in no state to lead our army, and you will not be able to train a weakened mind to bear the greater burdens you aspire to. You are making yourself frail, Hux. As your Supreme Leader, I _order_ you to _rest_.”

Though Hux bristled, he was also shaken, and Kylo knew that he could see reason in his words.

“I will… Do that. Supreme Leader,” He said quietly. “May I be dismissed?”

Kylo nodded, and Hux was quick to take his leave.

That left Kylo alone again, which he found was, indeed, worse than being alone with Hux.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait again!
> 
> If you see any interaction and you want to know another character's perspective, shoot me a comment and I might write you a little ~thing~ from their perspective :D :D (except for big spoilers - e.g. anything Peavey, lol)


	15. Tiddy fuckin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> s/o to BigEvilShine, I hope that you enjoy this terrible sin I have committed :)

Hux had, from a certain point of view, acceded to Kylo’s order to sleep. Just not in the way that Kylo, nor Hux himself, had been expecting.

He had, naturally, returned to the bridge, disgruntled that he was not yet free of the burden of Anneke’s constant calls to him. He had, based on the pattern that had emerged, that he had another two or so hours before she called again. He would have to ensure that he could find some way to appease her – preferably without leaving the bridge – before she could drag him away again.

He had scheduled a meeting for the top brass to discuss the situation on Perithal and potential solutions, during which he intended to present Forster’s proposal. He had then been reading through reports on his datapad, standing atop the platform overseeing his subordinates. The business council on Perithal had no solution, outside of mass murder, which he sympathised with, but also dared not risk lest they invoke their galactic neighbours ire…

He had been struggling to keep himself upright and aware, his dry eyes burning as he forced them to remain open, mind struggling over the content. It was no issue, he told himself. Once, when he had fallen asleep in class as a cadet, he had been sent to reconditioning, and forced to stay awake and memorise an instruction manual on proper blaster care for two straight days – if he could remain awake and pay attention through that, then he could do so, now.

Or so he thought.

He had blinked, and the whole world had suddenly seemed to tilt, as his head fell forward and left him in vertigo – he sprang back up like he’d been shocked with a cattle-prod, startling Thannison.

Wonderful. He’d started falling into micro-sleeps.

He was quick to switch tabs on the datapad – glad that he hadn’t dropped it in his moment of weakness – and order another stim to be delivered to him. Where was Mitaka, with his caf? The man was usually hovering nearby with a freshly brewed cup ready for him whenever he was tired-

It occurred to him that Mitaka’s affections might not have been as recent a development as he had assumed, but that was less important in this moment than his inability to remain awake. He just had to hold on until his stim arrived.

“Sir,” Peavey said, as Hux’s head started to lull forward again dangerously.

“What is it, captain?” _Perfect, now I have to think though this hellish fog_ , he thought bitterly.

“The officers have assembled for the meeting that you called,” Peavey announced cheerfully. “They are waiting in the meeting room adjacent to the bridge.”

Hux despised the man’s display of good-spirits. Scowling, he sent a quick message to Ren, in the hopes that he would be present at the meeting to cover for Hux – the possibility that he might fall asleep was very real. “Very well, let us join them,” He said reluctantly. Perhaps he could have a stim delivered to the room, though he would have to take it without the other officers noticing…

They left the bridge in the hands of another officer, but Hux was unable to recall who – Stars, he’d left his ship, his pride and joy, his life’s ambition, in the hands of an officer whose name he _couldn’t remember_.

Ren’s words about his fatigue leaving him weak ran through his mind, but he had to banish such thoughts as he and Peavey entered the room with the rest of the strategists and high-ranking officers. He was glad to note that Mitaka was there already, and upon seeing Hux, silently passed him a mug of caf.

“Thank you, Mitaka,” He said quietly, scarcely able to communicate his gratitiude. In normal times, he would never thank the man, as it was his duty to make himself useful to his superiors… But in his current state, he was just desperate to have relief, and grateful for whatever he could get.

He took a sip as he sat, noting a chalky aftertaste that suggested that there was a chewable stim tablet dissolved into his drink (something that Hux did on the odd occasion). He glanced at Mitaka, who was carefully not looking at Hux, but was clearly suppressing a smile that still showed in his eyes. He looked positively delighted.

Hux set down his cup and cleared his throat. “Well, is there anyone who isn’t up to date with the latest reports from Perithal?” He asked the room.

No one raised a hand, and there was a chorus of agreeable “hmms” and shaking of heads.

“Alright, well our priority is to bring an end to the protest movement across Perithal, without igniting a war with either Denon or Isold – or, worst case scenario, both.”

“The Business Council on Perithal approves of using brute force to set these recalcitrant rioters right,” Argued Flynn Piett, a rambunctious colonel who, like Hux, was often seen in his father’s shadow by the old Imperials.

“I said _without_ igniting war with Denon,” Hux snapped back. “Do you think they will look kindly upon us destroying their primary supplier of _everything_?”

“They are at a trade cross-roads,” The colonel responded. “They have multiple other avenues of trade, they are more concerned with us demonstrating a quick and efficient means of demobilising this revolution. They are more afraid of their own workforce turning against them than they are of the First Order.”

_Well, obviously_ , Hux thought, and was glad when Mitaka responded in his stead. “That is true, Colonel, but the reality is that to make an example of one manufacturing area may deepen the revolt, rather than quell it.” The man maintained a calm, dignified manner, which was beyond what Hux was capable of in this moment. “Do we fire on Nameen, and watch as Rathin’s people rally together? What of Kalim, Polner, Naev and Mithral? We are already seeing the worst-case scenario there, where the populace look to each other, rather than any state institution. There is no head to cut off.”

“But there is a head to _turn_ ,” Peavey said, and Hux didn’t appreciate the over-extension of metaphors in his current state, when he was having a hard enough time following the conversation when it was in plain basic. “The offer from the Trade Union Federation is still on the table, they are awaiting our response.”

“Why should we deal with those poseurs, those would-be politicians who represent the working class?” And Hux was almost surprised that Lieutenant Key didn’t spit after she uttered the phrase ‘working class’, given the spiteful tone in which she said it, as though she couldn’t stand to have the words upon her lips.

“Because they represent a way to turn this movement to defeat from within,” Hux said, determined not to let Peavey hog the spotlight. He was glad that Peavey was – at least on this issue – on the same page as Hux. “We have extended an invitiation to their leadership to meet with us on one of our Star Destroyers, and they have proposed to deescalate the mob, in return for free elections in which they can run.”

“I rather thought that the whole point of our takeover was to openly rule as the First Order,” Piett scoffed. “The First Order doesn’t _have_ elections.”

“Well, our priorities have shifted in the wake of the rebellion planet-side,” Hux responded sharply. “Would you rather the First Order’s flagship and two other Star Destroyers be shown to be weak enough to be overthrown in front of the whole galaxy? Countless worlds are watching this unfold – to lose now could begin a generalised galaxy-wide revolt, one that our organisation, frankly, can’t survive without-“

He cut himself off, irritated that he’d managed to bring up his greatest weakness, but Peavey was quick to finish his sentence for him.

“Without Starkiller,” He said, tutting quietly. “It seems that the loss of that weapon is going to continue to cost us dearly, and now we have to adjust our strategy to compensate for the loss.”

Hux didn’t appreciate the way the man was rubbing it in – he suspected that he was blamed for Starkiller’s demise, given that it was his project. After the revelations about the betrayal Galen Erso’s deliberate design flaw in the Death Star, he was certain that there were rumours flying about his designs, and given that his engineering teams were so-much space debris, the fault had nowhere to land but him. Constant reminders of Starkiller only served to further discredit him as their General.

“Let’s not forget,” Mitaka added, “That the Resistance propaganda has been spread to multiple worlds, encouraging further revolt, with the promise of back-up to those who choose to fight. Regardless of whether they are capable of providing such assistance, it may be a promise that spurs movements across the galaxy.”

Blessed Mitaka, switching the track of the conversation away from dangerous waters. “Yes, preliminary reports indicate that many of the townships and industrial centres that have revolted have displayed Resistance symbols, propaganda, and captured leaders of local resistance cells have passionately quote their little propaganda holo,” Hux said. “We need to calm the movement for long enough to drain the momentum, convince the workers to go back to work, and rebuild the state institutions that can hold them in place until further notice. One thing is clear,” And he glared pointedly at Piett and Key. “We cannot rely on an armed takeover at this time, we must settle on some compromise for now, confuse and weaken the populace, strengthen our forces, and then we can strike decisively and rule outright.”

Piett and Key seemed to finally calm at that, which was a relief. He was having trouble enunciating, and having to speak for much longer might have resulted in some of his words slurring. He had already given into his body’s weakness by leaning his elbows on the table, hands clasped together to hold up his head, as the effort had become too great. He raised one arm to drain the rest of the caf, desperate to alert during this critical meeting.

“Well, is the room confident that we should meet with this Forster fellow, then?” Peavey asked, to there was general assent. “Excellent, then let’s discuss the terms of meeting with him, what we’re willing to bargain, and what we are not – Firstly, I propose that we meet with him planet-side, rather than on a Star Destroyer.”

Hux spun his chair to face Peavey, knocking aside his empty mug in the process. The shattering of the porcelain on the floor echoed in the ensuing silence.

“Planet-side?” Hux repeated, looking at Peavey as though he’d grown another head. His hands were gripping the arm rests of his chair tightly, and he was poised to leap from the chair at a moment’s notice. This was wrong, it had not been raised with him before the meeting.

“You don’t agree?” Peavey asked innocently, leaning back in his own chair.

“How could you think that a viable option?” Hux shot back. “The security risks are _innumerable_ , we will need our top leadership to be part of this negotiation – Why should we hand them our heads on a platter? The _whole planet_ is in revolt, there will not _be_ a safe place to convene! All we need to do is make a show of being willing to negotiate and compromise to curtail radical action, not… Not…” He lost his words, simply pantomiming the slitting of their throats instead. The stim-caf was adding to his nervous reaction to preposterous suggestion, heart hammering in his chest, even as his mind still struggled to concentrate.

“Precisely because we want to make a show of ‘ _good faith_ ’, we need to provide a spectacle, not simply hold meetings behind closed doors, out of the public eye!” Peavey addressed the room, ignoring Hux completely. “As we have decided to take the diplomatic route on this issue, we ought to _commit_ to it – a public show of compromise, to put at ease the concerns of the population. Our First Order poster boy,” He waved a hand at a furious Hux, “Should lead a contingent to meet with the Federation, which will assist Forster and the Union Federation in demobilising factory occupations where ever they can, as _part of the negotiations_. The weaker that we make them during this period, the better – ideally, we should prolong negotiations as long as possible, to maximise the demobilisations. Only when the workers become antsy, so impatient for action that they start to take action themselves, should we proceed with elections.”

This was a disaster. Hux couldn’t be planet-side for the days, weeks, perhaps _months_ that it would take to pull off such a plan – not only for the security concerns, but because of _Anneke_. How in the seven hells would he hide her if she had to travel with him to the planet, and stay in a room that may or may not be secure, while he had to return to her periodically to feed her? Given her powers, it would not be an option.

No, he _needed_ the negotiations to take place on a Star Destroyer.

“I cannot endorse such a proposal,” He said sternly, leaning on his elbows on the table once more. “The risks are too high – we do not want to leave our command personnel in such a dangerous position at this time. To be at the mercy of the forces on Perithal, for any length of time, is out of the question at this stage.”

“Well, what does the rest of the room think?” Peavey said, looking over the assembled officers.

“Perhaps it would be beneficial to be seen to be willing to negotiate, but I would not like to leave our command staff planet-side for a great length of time. Perhaps a few days, maximum, lest we leave time for our enemies to plot and enact an assassination,” Piett opined.

“Why not spin our allowance of the union leadership onto our Star Destroyer as an act of welcome?” Mitaka countered. Hux would have to give that man a promotion – or blow him, he might appreciate both actions equally. “We can have a live broadcast of our meeting with them, and show it to the populace – we have connections with their primary media organisation, Morduke Corp., who would be more than willing to assist, given that they are a long-time sponsor of the First Order. There is no need to expose ourselves unnecessarily.”

“We only have one shot at this, Lieutenant!” Peavey barked, before regaining control of himself. “That is to say, this is something that we have to get right on the first try, and I think our chances are maximised by going planet-side to meet and negotiate – we could have a rally of First Order supporters, as we do have a considerable base amongst not only the elite, but also the well-to-do middle class, who recognise the threat posed by this movement. Such a display of support from the populace itself would help to confuse the vacillating masses, who aren’t sure whether they ought to join the revolt, as well as be useful propaganda for us galaxy-wide, _and_ I would point out that some here are overblowing the security threat,” He indicated his datapad, inviting the other officers to look at their screens. “We have several thousand Stormtroopers located in the capital city of Rathin, we would be well-placed to hold a meeting there and have full control of our security contingent. There is no reason to fear a short-to-medium-term stay.”

Hux was losing this battle. “The longer we are there, the greater the security threat,” He argued, desperate to the last. “Why not simply have a mass rally of our supporters in a square that is broadcasting a live feed of our greeting the federation on our Star Destroyers?”

“Two main reasons,” Peavey responded easily, to Hux’s dismay. “One, the wealthy citizens detest the union officialdom – it will be hard to inspire the sort of rousing support that we would require at a propaganda event with only Forster and co. to greet, and as we need to pull this stunt within the next day or so, it is too late to invite representatives of the Business Council, who fear being associated with us at the moment due to our… Popularity issues.”

“And the second reason?” Hux dared to ask, the sinking realisation that he had been outmanoeuvred sinking in to form an unpleasant weight in his stomach. The stim-caf churned in him, adding to the nauseous sensation.

“We can meet with the Business Council in person, without drawing attention to such, on-planet, and win them back to our side. We have some of the billionaire-class allied to us, but there are elements of the leaders of industry who think that leading a revolt against the First Order might make the populace more susceptible to their own control, given the panic amongst Perithal’s rulers in the wake of the revolt.”

“We could do that via holocall,” Hux responded.

“We have tried, sir,” Peavey replied, expression making it clear that he was pleased with himself. “Whilst you were… _Indisposed_ with your _duties_ to the Supreme Leader,” And Hux bristled at the implication of _that_ , “Those of us on the bridge were exchanging communiques with the Business Coucil of Perithal, and the majority are of the opinion that if they combine and rebel against the First Order, they can put down the revolt. Even our agents who have been embedded planet-side for decades are having trouble getting through to them.”

So there was nothing else for it. “No more than a day,” He said weakly.

“Pardon, sir?” Peavey said.

“We will not be on the planet for more than a single day – we will take tomorrow to organise the rally, using our contacts and supportive industry leaders to put the word out to the monied classes that the First Order are there to put an end to unrest and bring stability and order back to Perithal, as well as arrange for the meetings we need to be at with the union federation and Business Council, and then the day after tomorrow we will land, and leave before night falls.”

Even as he said it, he dreaded it. Peavey, however, was beaming.

“That sounds reasonable,” He said jovially. “What say the rest of you?”

Mitaka shot Hux a worried look, though the man didn’t know the extent of the issues Hux had with this whole mission. Nonetheless, the room was quite happy with it, and while they discussed details and what they ought to be willing to negotiate, Hux leaned his head on his hands and fell asleep with his eyes open.

 

* * *

 

 

Mitaka had woken him at the meeting’s conclusion, and he had hurriedly left, leaving Peavey in control of the bridge.

He could no longer deny his need to sleep, not when he would be on the surface of Perithal, surrounded by enemies, within forty-eight hours. He felt a little better after his impromptu series of naps during the meeting, but it had been yet another blow to his credibility – fortunately, Mitaka had kicked him under the table when he was being addressed, and tried to answer for him as he woke up so as to let him know the nature of the question. Nonetheless, he was walking a very fine line.

He was surprised to enter his room to find Ren sitting at his desk, watching the Nan-E droid care for Anneke from across the room.

The Supreme Leader spared him a glance as he entered, before looking back to his daughter, who was playing with Nan-E’s fingers.

“You didn’t follow my orders,” Ren accused, tone without any real heat, as Hux collapsed on the bed.

“I’ll have you know that I slept on the bridge,” He said into the sheets of his bed, voice muffled as he lay face-down in the delightfully soft surface.

Ren make a non-committal noise in response, so Hux assumed that he was off the hook.

They remained silent for a few minutes, Hux regretting the stim-caf as his heart thundered in his ears and his mind refused to allow him to rest now that he _finally_ had the opportunity.

“Your thoughts are a mess,” Ren observed casually.

Hux assumed that was directed at him. He imagined he also _looked_ a mess, face-down on the bed, feet hanging over the edge, still fully dressed, arms splayed out by his head. He hadn’t moved from where he’d collapsed. “Are they, now,” He muttered into the sheets.

“Would you…” Ren paused, and Hux – with great effort – turned his head to the side so that he could see Ren sat at the desk. “Would you like help falling asleep?”

He couldn’t be _serious_? “I’m not in the mood, Ren,” He groaned, burrowing his face back into the bed.

He heard Ren sputter, then say, “That’s not what I meant. I meant…” A sigh. “Just a force trick, click my fingers and… Let you rest.”

Hux settled. Kriff, that sounded wonderful, although a part of his mind screamed at him that he should never allow Kylo Ren – of all people! – to alter his consciousness in any way…

That part was a great deal quieter than the part that was screaming at him to sleep, however.

He rolled onto his back, groaning with exertion, letting one hand fall over his abdomen. “Go ahead, then,” He yawned, and then –

 

* * *

 

 

When Hux awoke, Ren was still there, sitting at the desk and staring at the wall.

“Where’s Anneke?” Were the first words out of Hux’s mouth. He blearily glanced around the room, noting that the Nan-E droid was nowhere in sight.

“She’s with the Medical droid in the refresher,” Ren responded dully. “She couldn’t bear to look upon me anymore, and I thought that her crying might wake you.”

That was uncharacteristically charitable of him. He tried to recall another time that Ren had looked out for his comfort, and drew a blank. “Well, it’s probably time to feed her, anyway,” He said shortly, a hand cupping his uncomfortably bloated chest. The increased calorie and fluid intake seemed to have done wonders for his milk production, but it also meant that he was sporting something approaching cleavage, although his tunic did a good job of pressing his chest flat.

“She’s asleep, now,” Ren said in a monotone. He hadn’t stopped staring at the wall, and as Hux continued to wake up, he noticed that the man was rather listless in the chair, weight resting on ligaments rather than holding himself up. “I’d advise feeding her when she wakes.”

He could probably feel her through the force, or whatever. That left Hux with a rather uncomfortable problem, but he was sure that a simple pump would ease his woes. “Where is the Nan-E unit?” He asked Ren, sitting up properly.

“Gone to get formula,” He responded mechanically.

Well, so much for that plan. But it was fine, he would be able to withstand the mild discomfort of his engorged chest while he saw to other tasks. There was much still to do, especially now that he was expected to go planet-side soon. He would need a hand-picked security team, he couldn’t leave such a detail up to Peavey – not when he didn’t know his plans.

Actually, on that thread, perhaps it was time that he recruited Ren to his side to assist…? There was no time like the present, especially since events were progressing so quickly.

“Do you drink?” Hux asked, rising to his feet and crossing the room to lean on the desk Ren was sitting at.

Ren kept his head facing the wall, but Hux caught the movement of his eye as it darted to glance at him. “No,” He said slowly. “Why?”

Hux tugged open a drawer on the desk, pulling out his Corellian Whiskey. “You just look like you need one,” He replied, pulling out the crystal cork and taking a swig directly from the bottle.

Ren did look at him, then. “I see that your brief respite has done wonders,” He said, droll. Deliberately changing the subject.

“She _will_ warm up to you,” Hux said, turning the conversation right back to thread he had started it on. “You don’t need to sir around looking like she’s taken a restraining order against you.” It was a thin line, but he was banking on Ren being in a mood to be comforted. He was a mercurial, temperamental beast, and his moods could swing as quickly as the winds changed on Arkanis. But with the melancholy lilt in his voice and his terrible posture, Hux was fairly confident that he could score some points in his favour.

He’d prefer Ren to be in a good mood, before he asked for the particular favour that he wanted.

He didn’t miss that way that Ren’s eyes were watering, subtly, leaving them sparkling in the dim light. “I can’t talk about this now,” He choked.

“Alright,” Hux said, one long finger idly playing with the crystal cork. “Maybe you would rather a distraction. Might I… Propose something?”

Hux could feel Ren’s attention focus on him more strongly, the man shifting to place Hux directly in his line of sight. “Propose _what_?” He regarded Hux with a guarded look, but it lacked any real semblance of hostility. That was a good sign.

“I am to be part of a contingent to go planet-side in roughly two days,” He informed him, speaking quickly. “Peavey is arranging it, but I am concerned about security… I would appreciate it if you joined me, for two reasons-“

“You can’t leave the ship,” Ren interrupted. “You have to be with Anneke.”

Hux had a moment of disappointment, then a surge of elation. Perhaps this was his ticket out of it…? “Is that an order, sir?” He asked, not worrying overly much about appearing too hopeful.

Ren frowned. “If it has to be,” He said.

_Kriff_ , he was relieved. “Yes, sir,” He was tempted to salute, but he wasn’t sure if that would be laying it on _too_ thick. He took a quick celebratory swig of whiskey, instead.

“Well, even without the concerns regarding going planet-side, I would still ask for your assistance,” He went on, keeping an eye on Ren to gauge if he was amenable.

Ren appeared impassive, but that was better than irritated. “What _form_ of assistance?”

“I have been informed of a section of officers who are disgruntled, that spans at least two Star Destroyers. I want to know who I can trust, and given your _considerable_ abilities,” And there was no reason not to boost his ego here, “I would ask that you accompany me to the meeting that is happening in two days time, to determine who is working against me.”

Ren seemed unimpressed. “And who, pray tell, do you think is working against you?”

And of course, he had to work around Ren’s utter lack of concern over the First Order’s internal politics. “Peavey, for one. As to the depths of the issue, I cannot say – but that’s why I ask for your assistance, Supreme Leader.”

Perhaps playing into his ego would be a useful tactic…? “There is no one else who could reach into the minds of these simpering fools and effortlessly reveal their deepest secrets,” He said, also playing on Ren’s hatred of the officers.

“Why should I be involved at _all_?” Ren said dismissively. “If you are to be indisposed with meetings, I would rather be with Anneke. At least one of us should be.” His glare was telling.

And dangerous. Hux didn’t want a repeat of their… _Conversation_ in the medbay.

Another tactic was necessary, and he was terribly low on ammunition. Although, not completely…

Hux lifted the crystal decanter to his lips and took a slow sip, then set it down on the desk and stood up, arching his back subtly as he moved to stand before Ren.

“Would you be involved because of how _deeply_ grateful I would be?” He said, running a hand from his hip to the top of his thigh, long fingers splayed to frame his groin.

Hux was confident that his implication had been picked up on when Ren stood and moved closer to him, crowding him, going so far as to bring a to wrap around his waist, while the other cupped one side of his face. He wondered if he had, perhaps, lead him too far when the Supreme Leader gently pushed a gloved thumb into his mouth. Well, at least the soreness in his chest was no longer at the forefront of his mind.

But this could play out to his advantage, seeing that Ren was open to such persuasion. Assuming that Ren wasn’t dead-set on penetrating him, which was still absolutely out of the question, this seemed too only way of moving closer to his goal of winning Ren to his side long enough to play the role of spy and saboteur. Ren had always been more amenable to his suggestions after they had been together, as though taking Hux gave him a high that distorted his perception of the world temporarily. He would just need to direct the man’s interest away from his his _favoured_ orifice.

“You know, I was thinking,” Ren said softly, voice low and pleasant. “About having another one.”

“Whaw-“ Hux sputtered around the digit in his mouth, leaning away to dislodge it. Ren allowed him this, smirking lightly. “What?! Ren, I don’t think-“

Ren’s smile fell away as he held Hux’s jaw closed with his enormous hand. “I want another one,” He said, voice still low, but no longer as pleasant.

Hux swallowed, but the only thing that he could think to say as Ren released his jaw was, “Six weeks.”

Ren frowned, brow furrowing. It was his turn to say, “What?”

“That’s how long- the droid said that I can’t,” He explained hurriedly. “I can’t… Do that. Have…” He swallowed again. “Have sex.”

Ren tilted his head to the side, regarding Hux with an intense stare. “… That’s true,” he concluded. Damn Ren and his mind-reading or what-have-you. Though, that _was_ what he was after for his own ends, so he couldn’t begrudge him _too_ much.

“Yes, Ren,” Hux said, reigning in his sigh of relief, sure that the Supreme Leader would not appreciate it.

“Then why did you…?” Ren regarded him with a cool look. He was obviously indicating Hux leading him on.

Well, he couldn’t very well say, _because I wanted you to do something for me and I was trying to manipulate you, or… or barter for your services._

“You can’t… Penetrate me,” He said, and he could feel that his eyes were wide, his heart hammering a little. What was the guarantee that Ren _wouldn’t_ demand that he bend over, regardless of his condition? “But there are… Other things that we can do?” He hadn’t meant that to sound so much like a question.

Ren seemed to consider this, however, the hand on his face slipping down to run over his chest. Even the slight pressure was uncomfortable on his full chest, and he couldn’t quite stay silent as Ren’s hand pressed into it.

“Something wrong?” Ren asked, sounding sincere enough.

“Just… Sore,” He explained, nonchalant.

“… Here?” And he pressed the palm of his hand over the slight swell of Hux’s chest, rubbing lightly.

Hux shifted his weight on his feet a little. “… Yes,” He admitted, perturbed when Ren didn’t stop pressing little circles onto his chest. “Ren, if you’re not careful, you’re going to make those leak.”

This only seemed to spur the man on, his hand pressing more firmly, his body shifting closer, leaning his forehead against Hux’s and allowing his hair to fall around them like a canopy. “I would like to see that,” He whispered, sultry. “Take off your shirt.”

Hux stepped back to give himself the space to comply, unable to look away from Ren’s leer as he did so. He gathered his courage, allowing his coat to slip from his shoulders and pool on the floor at his feet, slowly bringing his hands to undo the belt. Ren held his gaze the entire time, even as the belt fell away to join his coat and his fingers tugged at the hem of the tunic.

Their locked gaze broke as he lifted the tunic over his head, and Hux felt a stab of self-consciousness as his plump chest and soft torso was revealed. _It’s nothing that he hasn’t seen before_ , he reminded himself, _though the context is wildly different_.

Ren made a soft sound as Hux’s chest was revealed, and Hux was quick to let the tunic join the coat and belt on the floor.

He stood before Ren, not certain what the next step was to be. The hungry look that he was receiving indicated something horizontal, but they couldn’t… So…

His mouth, perhaps? He was about to fall to his knees, when, “Lie on the bed,” Ren commanded. “On your back.”

Hux hesitated. “Ren, I can’t-“

“I’m not going to fuck you,” Ren said dismissively, before smirking at him. “At least, not _there_.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but he was willing to oblige, given that Ren was potentially willing to be his tool against Peavey and co. He crossed the room to sit gingerly on the edge of the bed, facing Ren, and lay back. His feet were still planted on the floor, but if Ren wanted him further up the bed, he would say it. He stared at the ceiling as he heard Ren’s footsteps approach, and the bed sunk beneath his weight as the man kneeled over him, one knee on either side of his waist. Ren reached beneath his tunic to palm at himself, and Hux could see the lump where his erection lay in the confines of his pants.

“They’re bigger,” Ren commented, and Hux had a moment of confusion as to what he was referring to. Ren seemed to see this in his expression, and clarified, “Your tits.”

Hux blushed furiously, lips pursing, even as he felt desire curl within him. He had noticed the Supreme Leader’s preoccupation with his new… _Ability_ , but he hadn’t imagined that it would produce _this_ reaction.

“Suddenly so shy?” Ren teased, leaning down over Hux, supporting his weight with a hand coming to rest next to Hux’s head. The other hand was still busy between his legs. “It’s usually the other way around.”

He was right, damnit, and Hux wasn’t one to give up an advantage once he had it. “Would you prefer me like this?” He ventured, matching Ren’s sultry tone, running his hands up his own sides slowly, letting them rest on the sides of his chest and cupping him lightly. He pressed them – his – his _tits_ – together gently, letting them bulge a little. They were still a tad sore for being so full, but the added mass seemed to leave Ren enraptured. The pressure of pushing them together forced a little bead of milk from one nipple, catching both the light and Ren’s attention.

“Yes,” Ren breathed heavily, the hand between his legs working to free himself from the clothing separating his dick from Hux. He lowered himself to lick the bead, and Hux let out a soft, “oh,” feeling surprisingly sensitive, more aroused than he had thought he was.

Perhaps it was the feeling of being desired like this, of being capable of reducing the Supreme Leader to such a state. It felt, once again, like he was in control.

Ren’s tongue ran around the areola, before moving back to lap at the nipple proper, and Hux squeezed a little more, letting a little milk tease Ren’s tongue.

Ren had finally freed himself, and he sat back up properly.

“I…” And Ren’s confident air faltered, and Hux felt supremely smug as he squirmed, struggling with what he wanted to say.

“What would you like to do to me, Ren?” Hux purred, hands still cupping his breasts.

He wished he could have bottled and sold the feeling of power that he got when Ren’s tongue ran over his lips, one hand fisting around his cock as he whispered, “I want to fuck your tits.”

“Please,” Hux smiled pleasantly as he massaged his sore breasts, giddy with how enraptured Ren was by the small movement. “Do.”

And Ren didn’t need more enticing to lower himself to straddle Hux’s waist, his own large hands moving to replace Hux’s in squeezing his tits. Ren pressed harder than Hux had, causing milk to leak, running between them to leave his chest wet. Hux didn’t particularly appreciate the sensation, as the milk was quick to cool on his skin, but as Ren slid his dick between his tits, it provided a slick lubrication that Ren seemed to very much enjoy.

“Kriff, look at you,” He gasped, sliding his cock forward and back with a gentle rock of his hips. “It looks like I’ve come all over you already.”

He must have been referring to the white milk, Hux supposed, running down his chest in little rivulets.

Ren’s hips rocked a little fast, a little harder, and Hux suspected that this would not be a terribly long encounter. It was almost a shame, as his own arousal was piqued as he reduced Ren to a quivering mess.

The milk was a useful lubricant, allowing a smooth slide of skin across skin as Ren’s pace increased. His mouth hung open, breathless sounds involuntarily escaping him, and his eyes were locked on where his dick was trapped between Hux’s breasts.

Ren guided Hux’s hands to squeeze his tits around his cock, and as Hux pressed them together, Ren’s own hands moved to Hux’s shoulders. It was better leverage for him to fuck harder, increase the friction that he craved, and it wasn’t long before a hot burst of cum shot over Hux’s neck and chin, a strand landing across his lips. Ren even pulled back, pumping his cock with one hand to ensure that he could watch cum stripe Hux’s tits.

As he watched Ren cool down, collapsing to lie alongside Hux on the bed, he couldn’t help but notice his own arousal pressing against into the air proudly.

Running one hand through the milk on his chest for lubricant, he jerked himself off – it only took a few pumps, he was so aroused, and how his abdomen was as filthy as his tits, painted with his own mess.

Taking heaving breaths, he let his head fall to the side to look at Kylo Ren, who was looking him up and down greedily.

“That was incredible,” Ren said, reverently.

“As I said,” Hux said playfully, licking a few drops of his own cum from his fingers. “I’m _very_ grateful for your help.” He could taste the sweetness of the milk on his fingers, too.

Ren chuckled, cupping a hand around one of Hux’s tits, heedless of the mess. “I suppose I can’t deny you when you ask so nicely,” He conceded.

Hux beamed, triumphant, rolling onto his side to catch Ren’s lips in a kiss.

At least whenever the meeting took place, he would have the most powerful man in the room on his side.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooo, I am still alive! Sorry, this chapter was really hard cause a) I got busy in real life :S, b) I wasn't sure how to to a few of the logistical things in this chapter, and since it's boring logistical things, I struggled with finding the motivation (boring "how does character get from a to b" stuff, bleh), c) I GOT SUPER INTO DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN (I wanna bone all the main characters, tbh, and robots are a weakness for me omfg) so my mind has been there, instead of in Star Wars XD
> 
> But I am here, now. I haven't forgotten this! You just might see some DBH fics from me, soon, lol (no spoilers!! I haven't finished it yet!)
> 
> This chapter feels like boring set up to me, but I hope that you like it :D :D

When Hux awoke, he was still entwined with Ren.

Ren lay on his back, hair forming a dark halo around his slack face. Hux was on his side, clinging to the man, with one arm slung across Ren’s gently rising and falling chest, and a leg wrapped around Ren’s thick calves.

He was quick to pull away, grimacing at the sensation of the dried semen and sticky milk residue still sullying his chest and stomach.

As he stood, stomach turning at the sensation of the semi-dissolved bacta device in his rear, he risked a glance over his shoulder.

Ren hadn’t moved, but he was peeking at Hux with one eye, the only hint that he wasn’t asleep being the hint of light glinting off his eye from beneath dark lashes. “Sleep well?” He asked, voice still husky with sleep.

They didn’t do this. They didn’t stay in the same room after their encounters, they didn’t fall asleep next to each other, and they _certainly_ didn’t _cuddle_. He didn’t even remember falling asleep…

Nonetheless, he answered honestly. “Yes, Supreme Leader.” There seemed no other answer to give. He just had to behave and hope that Ren stayed true to the plan he’d agreed to last night.

Ren huffed a laugh, eyes closing as he rolled onto his side to face away from Hux.

Well, that was as clear a dismissal as any.

He hurried into the refresher, and was met two droids feeding Anneke from a bottle.

“Sir, you’re awake,” Met-X5 greeted him, struggling to pull an antennae out of Anneke’s firm grip. “How is the bacta device functioning this morning?”

Nan-E3 looked up from Anneke, having her cradled in its arms, not waiting for Hux to answer the first droid’s question before speaking. “We have acquired the formula, sir,” It announced happily. “We have thirty tins of one-thousand grams powder each, currently stored in your wardrobe. I can arrange for you to be instructed in the proper methods of formula production, at your earliest convenience.”

Hux sighed, ignoring them both and heading for the sonic. It was the most quick and efficient option available.

“Met-X5, remove this blasted device from me,” He said as struggled with the straps over his hips.

Anneke’s eyes darted to him as he spoke, a little hand reaching up from the edge of her pillowcase dress as though to grab him from across the room. Fortunately, it was not accompanied by any kind of force pull, so he was free to continue attempting to bathe – and it released Met-X5 from her grip.

“Has it not been to your liking, sir?” Met-X5 asked hesitantly as it moved to obey, servos making quick work of the harness. It gently directed him to the toilet bowl, and Hux recalled the reason with a flare of embarrassment.

The squelching sound and slick slide of the gelatinous remains of the bacta device made him feel nauseous, but he managed to hold himself together. Until, of course, the mixture of blood and faeces drained from him into the bowl, as well.

He had never had occasion to think of the many ways that childbirth forced one to experience every conceivable bodily fluid on a daily basis. He hoped that he never had occasion to again. “You will have to instruct me in kegel exercises so that I can finally end this humiliating ritual,” He said to the medical droid, who simply used the bidet to clean him and insert a new device.

Hux let out a breath as the new device was inserted. It wasn’t…. Comfortable, but the pain relieving drugs and the healing bacta had made the discomfort in his rear more or less tolerable.

“I will have a pamphlet made for you, if that would be sufficient?” The droid asked as it retightened the straps.

“No paper trail,” Hux hissed, pulling away and all but rushing into the sonic.

It helped with the flakes of dried cum, but there was still a noticeable sticky sensation, so he opted to indulge in a water shower as well.

“Nan-E3,” He said as he let the water run through his hair, a thought occurring to him. “We have formula now, so I assume that I no longer need to… Be pumped?”

He was looking forward to no longer having to worry about leaking nipples, or a sore chest (and it was a little sore now, apparently having refilled after… After last night). And he would be thrilled if he never had a pair of tiny gums chewing on his chest ever again.

“If you wish, sir, you may stop expressing, but I would advise against it for multiple reasons,” The droid said, lifting the bottle a little higher so that Anneke could get the last of her new milk. “You should still express… She refused the formula until I added sufficient milk that you provided earlier, she prefers the taste of your milk.”

Already, the warm water on his scalp wasn’t as soothing. “Is that the main reason?” He asked curtly, scrubbing at his chest with a sweet crème cleanser to rid himself of sticky residue.

“There are multiple health concerns that I have as well,” The droid said. “Would you like me to go into further detail?”

He ran a hand through his sopping hair, inhaling and counting to ten in his head to calm himself, to help him think rationally. Ren _liked_ it, apparently, so it was unlikely he’d be able to just… stop. At least now he wouldn’t have to worry so much about Anneke pulling him away from his duties every few hours, and he could be on the bridge uninterrupted for hours at a time without putting Anneke’s life in jeopardy, if he weren’t her only food source…

“No, I will continue expressing, but try and encourage her to take the formula,” He said, resigned.

It had been a shock, Ren’s fascination with his chest. His… _Tits_. Was that how Ren saw him, now? As a woman? Because he most certainly was _not_. Perhaps that was why Ren kept referring to him as Anneke’s _mother_ …

It wasn’t some major concern, really, but it was uncomfortable. And who, really, got off on… on _lactation_? Of _all_ of the things to be aroused by…

Though he felt shame course through him as he cleaned his stomach of his own emission, remembering how easily he had come in the very same encounter…

This whole situation was a mess.

At least he would not be required to go planet-side, though the first thing he would have to do when he dressed was inform Peavey of _that_ situation. That would be simultaneously delightful (destroying Peavey’s plans) and rather like pulling out his own teeth (having to enforce Ren’s authority against the wishes of most officers, at a time when ‘authority’ was a scarce resource).

“What time is it?” He asked as the water woke him more fully. He hadn’t even realised what a daze he had been in. Hells, he didn’t even know if he was technically on-shift yet (though during emergencies like this, he was never _really_ ‘off-shift’).

“It is oh-four-hundred hours, sir,” Nan-E3 said as it struggled to get Anneke to finish her bottle. She kept turning her head aside, refusing the last dregs.

So he’d slept for approximately five hours, then. That would be adequate for the day, hopefully.

He was already drawing up a mental plan of his day, the key events being putting Peavey in his place, organising the logistics of bringing Forster and co. aboard one of their Star Destroyers, instructing Ren in what needed to be accomplished in the meetings, and-

As though summoned, Ren stepped into the room, buck naked, yawning as he stretched his arms over his head. It only served to accentuate the definition in his torso.

He casually allowed himself into the water shower. The one that Hux was currently bathing in.

“I beg your pardon-“ He was cut off by Ren’s bulk forcing him against the wall – not due to Ren pushing him, but due to Hux’s attempt to leave a modicum of space between them resulting in his pressing himself against the tiles. There was mere centimetres of air between them.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ren said, reaching around Hux to help himself to the crème cleanser. With his other hand, he tugged on Hux’s arm, pulling him flush against him – though Hux just managed to bring his arms up to hold their chests apart. He was trapped as Ren snaked one arm around his back, the other running the cleanser through his own hair.

“This is highly inappropriate,” Hux said sharply, though a considerable portion of his focus was on the semi-flaccid protrusion digging into his hip from Ren’s groin.

“So was fucking your tits, but I didn’t hear you complaining last night?” Ren replied easily.

Hux gasped, glancing at the droids. “Don’t say that-!”

Ren rubbed some of the cleanser in Hux’s hair, laughing at the General’s indignation. “They’re just droids, Hux. What are you worried about? That they’ll _disapprove_?”

Admittedly, yes, he _had_ worried about that – but also the more general point that the more their relationship was known, the harder it would be to keep it a secret. “What part of _discretion_ don’t you understand?” He hissed, poking a finger into Ren’s chest. His very broad, very muscular chest.

Ren seemed amused at the action. “You can’t get much more discrete than your own refresher. Are you _really_ so concerned over the droids? You are aware that if they really annoy you _that_ much, we can have them smelted and replaced?”

Met-X5 accidentally smashed a beaker at that announcement, which was evidence that the droids very much _were_ paying attention.

Ren only seemed to find that hilarious. “See?” He grinned. “They know what will happen if they cross us.”

Hux could only respond by letting his head drop to Ren’s shoulder, sighing heavily. At least he wasn’t being forcibly penetrated against the shower wall, which was what he’d assumed was happening when Ren barged in.

The arm Ren has slung around his waist tightened a little, putting uncomfortable pressure on Hux’s many bruises. “You were right. I _did_ need a distraction.”

Tilting his head up a little, Hux replied, “What are you talking about?”

“Last night,” Ren clarified, eyes alight. “I was much calmer after our…” He made an exaggerated head turn to the droids, then leaned in close to whisper conspiratorially in Hux’s ear, “ _activities_.”

He didn’t particularly appreciate being mocked, but that was eclipsed by the realisation that Ren was… was in a _good mood_.

He straightened again, reluctantly peeling his head away from the crook of Ren’s neck. “Clearly, I’ve managed to take your mind off of things,” He said, searching Ren’s eyes for confirmation.

Ren responded by kissing him lightly on the lips.

Hux was in shock. Had he _broken_ the man, somehow?

“What is going on?” Hux asked helplessly. This was almost more surreal than giving birth – Ren’s post-orgasm mood-swing never lasted this long. Or did it? He’d never stayed the night before, so he didn’t really have a strong point of reference. They’d had meetings after a tryst in the past, though, and Ren had never been this… _Chipper_.

“Anneke is tolerating me,” Ren said proudly. “ _This_ might be the answer.”

“ _Answer_?” Hux repeated dumbly.

“To Anneke’s fear of me – to keeping my rage in check in her presence,” He said excitedly, oblivious to how his arm was nearly crushing Hux against him. “All I have to do is fuck you, and she’ll happily play and sleep and feed around me.”

Oh. He didn’t really have a response for that. For all that he had managed to sleep for a few hours, he was still quite slow. He was sure, in retrospect, that the only thing that had saved him from falling asleep again in his warm bed that morning was the unexpected presence of his Supreme Leader.

He let his head rest on Ren’s shoulder again, not commenting as Ren’s sudsy fingers found his hair, massaging his scalp. This was what he had hoped for last night – to alleviate Ren’s sour mood, to make him amenable to Hux’s requests. Really, this was a roaring success. He just hadn’t counted on Ren seeing it in the exact same light; fucking away a bad mood.

Perhaps he would be expected to perform regularly, then, and not simply when he needed something.

“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it,” Ren muttered, leaning the back of Hux’s head into the spray of water to rinse his hair. “You’re distressing Anneke.”

Drawn out of his thoughts, he could hear her little whimpers over the rush of water.

“She can’t read my mind, can she?” Hux said curiously, looking at the bundle in Nan-E3’s arms. He didn’t even think to deny Ren’s assertion that he was thinking about something that upset him – would there be any point? He didn’t fully understand how Ren’s mind-reading worked.

“No, but she’s connected to you,” Ren said, hands falling from his hair to rub at Hux’s back, noticeably avoiding the areas that were still discoloured by injuries. It was… Soothing.

“Connected,” He mulled over the word, relaxing despite himself as hands massaged his tense shoulder blades. “The same way that she controls me?” Hux wondered aloud.

“I think so… All I can sense is that she has a connection to you, to your mind and emotions,” And Ren’s hands stilled as his voice became forlorn.

Was it the same for Anneke, then? When she projected onto him, controlled him, he could feel her emotions as though they were his. Could the same thing happen to her, even though Hux was without force powers? He had assumed that it was only a one-way connection, before.

“I have prepared your uniform, sir,” Met-X5 said unexpectedly.

He and Ren both turned to it, and Hux moved to get out of the shower, plans for the day running through his head-

He was stopped by Ren’s hand gripping his arm again. “A few more minutes,” Ren said softly.

Hux acquiesced, remembering that he had to ensure that Ren was informed of the meeting tomorrow and his role in it. He slipped back in, letting Ren pull him flush against his chest again.

“Droid, bring Anneke to me,” Ren said, much to Hux’s confusion.

Nan-E3 glanced to Hux for confirmation, and at his subtle nod, brought her to the pair. He gently removed her from her cloth coverings, and Ren pulled away from Hux just long enough to take her, moving back to hold Anneke between them. She rested against Ren’s chest, head taking Hux’s place on his shoulder, her back to Hux and bottom cradled in one of Ren’s hands. She looked even smaller, being held by a behemoth like Ren.

Anneke had seemed upset by the cold air, but she settled very quickly as she was held between two warm bodies, delighting in the spray of warm water washing over Hux’s shoulder to run down her back.

“See how calm she is?” Ren marvelled, grinning like a fool at Anneke as she pulled some of his hair into her mouth to gnaw on it. Ren patted her back gently, and she burped loudly. “I noticed it last night. You know that she slept next to me for an _hour_?”

Of course he didn’t know, he’d been asleep himself.

“That’s remarkable,” He said instead, lightly placing a hand over her back. She turned her head to look at him, chubby cheek pressing into Ren’s shoulder as she regarded him. Her legs kicked and hands curled into fists in her excitement.

“I will have to prepare myself for the day soon, you know,” Hux said lightly, fingers idly stroking Anneke’s back. “And so will you,” He went on, carefully. “We’ve important meetings to prepare for.”

Ren seemed disinterested, eye only on Anneke, but he made a grunt that could be interpreted as assent.

“Do you think that you will be able to assess the officers in the meeting, possibly even join me on the bridge this morning to evaluate them?” Hux pressed, hand on Anneke’s back stilling.

“Of course,” Ren said, distantly.

“I still have to inform Peavey in the change in plans, of course,” Hux continued, sounding smug even to himself. “He’ll be terribly displeased.”

Ren chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to miss that.”

It seemed that Ren wasn’t prepared to pay a lick of attention to him, so he discreetly excused himself. This time, Ren allowed him to go, moving Anneke into the spray as Hux moved. Hux heard her squeal of shock and delight as he left the room, Met-X5 dutifully following with his uniform and a towel.

In short order, he was properly dressed and nearly presentable, though he did have to go back into the bathroom to apply his pomade. Ren was finished with the shower, and was introducing Anneke to her reflection in the mirror above the sink, wiping away the steam in short intervals to allow Anneke to play with her double.

Hux awkwardly stood behind him and to the side to see himself in the mirror as he took a comb and his pomade tin off of their shelf on the wall. He worked quickly, sometimes losing focus as Anneke’s antics drew his eye. As she couldn’t hold up her own head, Ren had laid her out across his forearm, her little head resting in his palm, allowing her to peek at her reflection between his fingers. His other arm steadied her back, which was vital as she was wet and wiggling and easily liable to slip and fall.

Ren would sometimes press his fingers together on the hand holding her up, thus blocking her view of the mirror, which would result in some wild wiggling until Ren parted them again and she could go back to staring at herself.

He’d stopped combing again to watch her, he realised, and when he glanced at himself in the mirror, he realised that he had a ridiculous smile that was quite embarrassing. A few more quick passes and his hair was acceptable, and he hurriedly put the comb and tin back on the shelf before rushing for the door.

“I’ll be with you shortly,” Ren said over his shoulder as Hux left the room.

Stars knew what ‘shortly’ meant, given that it didn’t look like Ren was ready to stop playing anytime soon.

Checking his datapad on the way to the bridge told him that Peavey had been very busy in the few hours between the officers meeting and the beginning of the shift. He had already scheduled the meeting for the morning after tomorrow planet-side (an day later than initially planned), and had plans for the security detail drawn up, as well as details of the less public meeting with the Business Council that were planned for _tonight_. It seemed that Peavey wanted them to move planet-side this afternoon, rather than tomorrow.

He read over the plans as he made his way down the halls, glad that there were minimal changes in the situation on Perithal overnight. The powder keg hadn’t exploded quite yet, fortunately.

Once on the bridge (at the precise moment that his shift began, he noted), he pulled Peavey aside. The man looked a little worse for wear, dark circles around his eyes and uniform looking less-than-neatly pressed, suggesting that it was the same one from last night. It seemed that he’d pulled an all-nighter putting together the meetings.

“Yes, General?” Peavey said as the doors to the bridge closed behing them, leaving them in the hall, out of the hearing range of the rest of the staff.]

“I regret to inform you that I cannot be a part of the contingent going planet-side,” Hux said simply, carefully concealing his satisfaction. “The Supreme Leader has ordered that I remain behind.”

Peavey looked like he might burst, face nearly turning purple as he fought to control himself. “Sir,” He said, almost pleadingly. “That is simply not an option.”

“Well, I’m afraid that you will have to take that up with the Supreme Leader,” Hux said dismissively, moving to return to the bridge.

Peavey spun on his foot to face him as Hux strode past. “You don’t understand!” He cried, almost reaching out to grab Hux’s arm before thinking better of it, arm jerking toward the General as he aborted the action.

Hux paused, hand hovering over the door panel, to raise an eyebrow at the action.

“The Business Council would only meet on the guarantee that they would have the ear of our top officers,” He explained quickly. Hux let his hand hover, letting Peavey continue. “Their support is not guaranteed – if you don’t make an appearance there tonight, they _will_ unite and force us from the planet, and that is not only evident in the transcripts of my call to them, but in the reports that our contacts and spies planet-side have reported. I had to push _very_ hard to even have them agree to schedule the meeting tonight.”

Hux felt very cold suddenly. “Are you asking me to directly disobey our Supreme Leader?” He said slowly, mind ticking over how he was supposed to navigate this abhorrent situation.

Peavey hesitated at that, at least. “I would ask that you have him see reason,” He tried.

Wasn’t that an indication of how little authority Ren had here? He couldn’t imagine any officer dare to ask _Snoke_ to “see reason”.

“Send me the transcripts from the call with them, and the reports, and I will…” Hux wasn’t sure what to say. “Figure something out,” He finished lamely.

Peavey nodded, tense. Hux finally opened the door to allow them to return to the bridge, immediately taking up his datapad and messaging Mitaka to send him the transcripts, call logs, reports, and whatever other information might be necessary to convince Ren. He had some reading to do – he would need to familiarise himself with the details of the Business Council’s demands if he wanted to convince Ren to bend to their demands.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ren held Anneke in his arms. He was dressed only in a tank and slacks, sprawled on the bed with Anneke resting on his chest, fast asleep. She lay on her back (as the Nan-E droid had insisted was the appropriate sleeping position), and she was so little that her legs didn’t even reach his belly-button.

Everything about her was wonderful. From how little she looked in the pillowcase which dwarfed her tiny frame, to the way that even as she slept, her mind reached out, brushing his lightly. There was no conscious push to it, just a light brush. He could track her sleep cycle like this, could tell that she was sleeping only very lightly.

He didn’t remember feeling this happy since…

He just didn’t remember ever feeling this happy.

The time spent around him without being attacked had done wonders, and he was sure that Hux’s presence had eased her fears. Now, as long as he could contain his temper, she was seemingly fine with him. He had hardly believed it when she had allowed him to hold her in the shower. He had intended to pass her to Hux, but once she was in his arms, he simply didn’t want to let her go.

And to think, the solution to his… _Difficulty_ in controlling his temper had such a simple, pleasant solution. After spending intimate time with Hux, he was usually uncharacteristically placid, and his force presence was less… Threatening, might be the word.

He brushed aside a curl of dark hair from Anneke’s forehead. Her hair was still very short, almost blending with the soft hairs that covered the rest of her. It seemed strange, but he didn’t know enough about infant development to question it. If it had been dangerous, or unhealthy, the droid would have done something about it.

He would destroy the entire universe if a single hair on her were to be harmed.

Rather unexpectedly, the doors opened. Ren latched onto them with the force, holding them a few feet in the air as he carefully maneuvered Anneke off of his chest to lay her on the bed. She stirred, but didn't wake - allowing him to put his full focus on the intruder-

“Oh,” He said, leaning back as recognition dawned. “It’s you.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Hux said imperiously, floating in the doorframe. “These are my quarters.”

“I’m surprised to see you here during your shift,” Ren said, laying back down properly and resuming watching Anneke, releasing Hux.

“I have an urgent matter to discuss with you,” Hux said as he regained his composure, sweeping into the room properly. “And another matter that I might as well deal with now.” The last part seemed to be equal parts frustrated and resigned, and Ren looked up again as Hux shucked off his great coat and started removing his shirt.

“What is the…,” He watched as Hux divested himself of his shirt, absently running his tongue over his lips. “Nature of this urgent matter?”

Hux glanced at him, then did an awkward double-take at Ren’s heated gaze, hands flying to his chest to cover his modesty. “Oh-! No, I – Just, the droid will pump me-.”

Ren laughed, unable to restrain it as Hux’s expression turned mortified.

“Droid!” Hux yelled, turning away from Ren, but Ren could still see him blushing. From this angle, side-on, he could see the slight bulge of Hux’s chest from beneath his hand. “Nan-E unit, report to me immediately!”

The droid obediently trundled out of the refresher, extending some kind of… suction-cup from a retractable arm. “Here you are, sir,” It said as it promptly and without preamble attached the suction cup to one of Hux’s nipples. This left Hux trapped, standing in the middle of the room with a droid attached to his chest.

“Well,” Ren said, observing the interaction with no small amount of amusement. “What was the urgent matter you needed to discuss with me?”

Hux breathed heavily out through his nose, before replying, “I have been informed that my presence on Perithal is not optional, and I will be required to shuttle planet-side by this evening.”

Ren’s pleasant mood soured instantly. “I ordered you to remain here,” He said, darkly.

He could see Hux’s throat move in profile as he swallowed, choosing his next words carefully. “I know, Supreme Leader, but the situation is too delicate – we need to garner support from the leaders of industry planet-side, and this is our singular chance to do so. They have made it clear that-“

“And what concern is that of mine?” Ren spat, sitting up on the bed, prepared to leap up and shake Hux by the shoulders, if necessary. “You have your orders, now _obey_.”

“Supreme Leader,” Hux was relentless, apparently. “The First Order needs this, or we face an existential crisis. To fail now means that we might not recover.”

Hux paused, looking at Ren as though he expected to be interrupted. Truthfully, Ren knew that this was the case – that they needed Perithal’s leadership to unite with them if they were to win this battle.

“Why not send Peavey in your stead?” Ren pushed.

“The Business Council want to speak to the leadership in person – they demanded my presence specifically. They want to know that we are serious about pursuing a strategy that will be beneficial to both of us, and will accept nothing less that my presence.”

Ren groaned, eyes falling back on Anneke. At least in Hux’s absence, he might be able to spend more time with her. Her fledgling force powers wouldn’t be great enough to reach Hux on the planet, and without him, she would have no one but Ren to look to. It could be beneficial to their relationship.

“Very well,” He said at last, eyes fixed on Anneke’s tiny chest as she breathed steadily. It was a miracle that their elevated voices hadn’t awoken her.

Hux made a relieved sound, before saying, “Thank you, Supreme Leader. I trust that you are still willing to accompany me to the meeting?”

Ren grit his teeth. “Hux,” He ground out, tone taking on a hard edge as he struggled to control his rising temper. “One of us has to be with Anneke.”

There was silence for a moment.

“This will be dangerous,” Hux said, looking at the floor in deference even as his words defied Ren’s will. “I will need not only your input on my rivals, but very possibly your protection.”

“Then _don’t go_ ,” Ren hissed.

“I don’t have a choice!” Hux blurted loudly, before placing a hand over his mouth.

“No, you don’t,” Ren agreed as he slid towards the edge of the bed, careful not to move Anneke. He rose to his full height and closed the distance between himself and his wayward General. “You do as _I_ command.”

Hux stood still as a statue as Ren glowered at him, their faces inches apart. Hux’s eyes were still downcast, and his breathing was noticeably heavy as he clamped down on his panic. The Nan-E droid simply continued to pump milk from Hux’s chest, as though oblivious to world.

“There’s no other way,” Hux begged, daring to let his eyes flit to Ren’s face before dropping again.

“Then she goes with us,” Ren stated, considering this a reasonable – and absurdly generous – compromise.

Hux, it seemed, did not agree, if the way he blanched and clenched his fists hard enough to drain the blood from his fingers.

“Absolutely not,” He said, remarkable resolutely for someone who was cowering before their leader.

“You would defy me?” Ren said in a dangerous tone, a hand wrapping around Hux’s arm just beneath his shoulder.

Hux tensed, but would not back down. “No one can know that she exists, or where she came from,” He insisted, flinching as Ren’s hand squeezed.

They were interrupted by Anneke crying out, voicing her distress as she woke suddenly.

Both their heads turned to her, and Ren hastily let go of Hux’s arm – he could feel her force presence filling with Hux’s distress, and he needed to calm himself down, _now_ , before she could sense his anger. It would be hours before he’d be able to settle her again, otherwise…

“Perhaps we can hide her,” Hux relented, desperate. “But you and I need to be present at this meeting.”

Hux’s next words were more surprising. “ _Please_ , Supreme Leader.”

He couldn’t let his temper rise again. There had to be a solution, wherein Anneke was with them… Ideally, not in harm’s way, which frankly made taking her planet-side a decidedly unappealing option, given the situation there…

An idea occurred to him.

“You can tell Peavey that we will both be at the meeting,” Ren announced, and he could feel Hux’s shock at the words, then his burst of relief. “I have a plan.”

 


	17. On Perithal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux and Kylo must attend the meeting on Perithal, convince the inhabitants to adopt their plan, and keep Anneke out of harm's way, all while uncovering a plot from within their own organisation.
> 
> Should be easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hi
> 
> So, it's been a while, huh? Still not dead.
> 
> I have no excuse?? But this chapter is extra long, so hopefully you won't be too upset haha (´ ∀ ` *)
> 
> My irl friend re-inspired me to keep writing after she read it and didn't disown me! ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ
> 
> This was the hardest chapter to write so far (obviously) because it's all... OCs and political nonsense, with 100% less tiddy fucking o(〒﹏〒)o But hopefully you like it anyway lol
> 
>  _I hope that the long wait hasn't killed any and all interest in this fic hahahaha_ (つω`｡)

The trip planet-side was tense, though no one dared to comment on it.

There were several dozen shuttles, all with a range of officers, technicians, medical staff, droids, and Stormtroopers. They flew in formation, making their way to Perithal’s capital below.

Several of the shuttles were decoy shuttles, containing no members of the First Order elite at all. Taking so many shuttles was for protection; there was no one shuttle that could be targeted by an interloper that would result in their entire High Command being decimated.

Conversely, it made it easier for his political enemies _within_ the Order to remove him easily, should they want _his_ shuttle to be targeted.

 _Let them try_ , he thought with some satisfaction. _Expose yourselves for nothing_.

The imposing figures of Hux and Ren stood side by side in their small craft, surrounded by subordinates whose primary purpose was to keep them alive.

They were, after all, entering enemy territory.

Mitaka was on the shuttle they had been assigned to, Hux opting to have the man travel with them given that he was the only officer who had openly sided with Hux in whatever factional dispute was occurring on his ship. The man himself had been all too keen to take the assignment, and had gone so far as to recommend what other personnel should join them.

He had an entire _network_ of friendly officers aboard the _Finalizer_ , it seemed. Hux filed that information away for later.

For the time being, he couldn’t help but stare at Kylo. The man’s appearance didn’t demonstrate an ounce of the strain that he was apparently under. Though he had been at pains to explain to Hux that the plan was a dangerous one, it seemed to Hux like the least dangerous thing in the world. Alas, he still understood so little of the Force; but if it meant that he had protection _and_ Kylo’s presence at the meeting, then all would be well. Somehow, he had everything he wanted laid out for him – at _Kylo Ren’s behest_ , no less. He was glad that the man had made himself useful on this occasion, rather than _yet another_ obstacle that he had to tackle.

Kylo showed no inclination of wanting to talk, but Mitaka was constantly chirping updates in his ear.

“Sir, when we arrive, we will immediately meet with the Business Council for official introductions – have you already read my report on Perithal’s social customs?” He asked, glancing up from his portable tablet to address his General.

“Of course,” He answered, having hurriedly memorised its contents in the early hours of the morning.

“Then you will introduce yourself publically to their leadership, then move straight to the capitol building to be a part of the negotiations on how to move forward, outlining a plan of action before the rally that has been organised for tomorrow of all of the First Order’s supporters. That will be where we announce our intentions to the populace,” Mitaka summarised.

“Do we know what the Business Council’s preferred outcome is, currently?” Hux asked, eyes falling to his own tablet, re-reading the notes that Mitaka had scrawled along the edges of the pages-long reports.

“There appears to be a split,” Mitaka informed him gravely. “A significant minority, however, support your plan to hold elections. The key issue will be convincing the rest of the Council to move forward with it.”

“Well, it’s fortunate that we have a mind-reader with us,” He said quietly, glancing at Ren.

Ren didn’t react, simply continued staring forward.

“Quite,” Mitaka agreed in a small, squeaky voice.

Hux snorted at the man’s apparent fear of their Supreme Leader. _There are ways to tame this beast_ , he thought smugly.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was an agonising hour or so before they were able to touch down planet-side, though Hux had grown increasingly tense throughout the journey.

“Stop stressing so much,” Kylo muttered through gritted teeth, just as the shuttle doors began to slide open with a hiss of hydraulics and the rumble of heavy machinery. “You’re draining me.”

Hux sniffed, eyes forward as the light from outside began to spill into the hold, lighting the elegant rows of Stormtroopers before them one by one. The Stormtroopers would march out in formation first, with another squad marching behind them.

The first row of troopers began marching out of the shuttle as Hux hissed back, “I’m _not_ stressing.”

Kylo huffed, a sound that might have been a laugh, though it was a touch too derisive for Hux’s liking. “When we are connected like this, it is harder for you to hide your lies from me,” He said in a low voice.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not lying, then,” Hux said, straightening his back, trying to express as much composure and grace as he could to Perithal. First impressions were important, and the stakes had never been higher.

“Fascinating,” Kylo said archly, finally deigning to tilt his head ever so slightly to regard the General. “You’ve lied so convincingly, you’ve convinced _yourself_ that is the truth.”

Hux wouldn’t indulge him. “There’s no time for this,” He said, preparing to march down the rampart as the first troop of Stormtroopers cleared the gangway.

Naturally, Hux had assumed that Kylo would march first, but to his astonishment, Kylo met his stride. They walked down the rampart together, the thundering of the Stormtrooper’s synced marching echoing behind them.

Hux didn’t let his surprise show, but there was no way that any of the other officers would miss it. They would be at a loss as to what it meant, however. Hux _himself_ was at a loss to explain it. Given the live broadcast of their arrival and the hand-picked crowd of friendly locals before them, now would not be the opportune time to ask for an explanation.

“Try not to touch anything,” Kylo warned him. “It will shorten our time here considerably.”

Hux nodded his acknowledgement. He didn’t understand how it worked, he only hoped that it would last for the duration of their stay.

They marched across a platform that had been set up for the First Order guests, raised above the onlookers below. They were all smartly dressed, waving and hollering their welcome. It was a new experience for Hux, for whom there had only been crowds of loyal troops who dared not express such fervent emotion. Nonetheless, he quietly found satisfaction in it. Not only would their elation at the First Order’s arrival be broadcast across the galaxy, but he was able to let his mind relax _just_ enough to enjoy it. All thoughts of a potential assassination attempt were put aside, given Kylo’s machinations into their journey, thus allowing him to focus on the satisfaction of a small victory and an adoring crowd (however messy and uncouth they might be).

At the far end of the platform were the dignitaries who were to welcome them to the planet, including several Senators who Hux recognised from their reports as paid-off and loyal to the First Order. There were even two members of the Business Council willing to appear publically today, including the owner of the Morduke Empire – a media conglomerate that had its headquarters in Perithal.

Hux was already mentally rehearsing the appropriate etiquette, remembering not to touch anyone, recalling which hand gestures to make to each of them given their different statuses, and so on, when –

 _When the unthinkable happened_.

Ren broke out of step with Hux, marching ahead. Hux could see the way that the dignitaries shrank back from his approach, the giant of a man _stalking_ towards them with the air of a voracious Rancor.

Hux’s jaw slackened, his steps faltering as his mind rushed to imagine how he could somehow _salvage_ this situation…

He stopped altogether when Kylo Ren pulled Elonoro Morduke, a wizened alien bordering on _ancient_ , into a one-armed _hug_.

He stared. The gathered dignitaries stared. The crowed hushed, and even a few of the guards warily turned their heads, perturbed by the sight.

The number of cultural barriers that had been smashed beneath the Supreme Leader’s heavy gait and bizarre display were _innumerable_. They were supposed to greet the King and Senators first, _then_ the nobility, _then_ the wealthy patrons, and under _no_ circumstances where they to _touch_ –                                                                                                                                           

Elonoro laughed, clasping one arm back around Ren’s shoulders and heartily patting him on the back.

Hux thought that he might faint.

Mitaka, who’d been standing two steps behind Hux, inched closer and whispered, “Sir, you didn’t tell me that Kylo Ren knew Morduke-?”

“He _doesn’t_!” Hux whispered back urgently, frantic eyes finding Mitaka’s, silently begging him for a way to _fix this_.

“… But that gesture would indicate the long-awaited return of an old friend?” Mitaka replied, maintaining a rather stoic façade despite the worry lines appearing between his brows. “According to social protocol-“

“Damn it all, Mitaka, what do we _do_?” Hux sputtered, working to control himself and resume his immaculate military bearing. Things might have been falling into a metaphorical Sarlacc pit, but that didn’t mean that Hux had to _act_ like it.

He had intended to do the socialising on _behalf_ of Ren! He hadn’t thought he’d _need_ to explain what was to happen upon their arrival – hadn’t dreamt that Ren would march in and immediately _feth everything up_ –

“… Are you _sure_ that they don’t know one another?” Mitaka subtly nodded at the pair.

Hux bristled. “I haven’t a _clue_ , but for his sake – and _ours_ – he had _better_.”

There wasn’t much else that they could do to intervene, so they remained standing a few metres behind the Supreme Leader. Hux, against the First Order’s principle of secularism, wished for a deity to pray to that might take pity on him for this ludicrous situation – either to set things right, or smite him where he stood so that he wouldn’t have to stare at the back of Ren’s _stupid_ head while he and Morduke quietly exchanged words.

At last, Ren stepped back from the alien, looking quite pleased with himself. Morduke himself stepped back into line behind the nobility, as though the ceremony was supposed to just continue as normal.

When Ren turned and made eye contact with Hux, his face fell from its jaunty smile to a dismayed frown. Hux imagined that Ren might have been reacting to Hux’s absolute shock and horror, which would have been visible a mile away.

Ren came to stand before Hux, hissing, “Go and do whatever you intended to do.”

Hux felt like a puppet on strings as he mechanically stepped forward, carrying out the proper procedure by saluting King Marine Letërte, who saluted back. Hux was disconcerted, to say the least, by Letërte’s amused expression, as he was at a complete loss as to _why_ he might be amused. The First Order teetered on a high wire, ready to fall with the slightest misstep, and Hux didn’t like not knowing what was going on.

The rest of the ceremony proceeded as usual, with the rest of the leadership and powerful of Perithal being greeted. At long last, the King was expected to give a speech. Ren remained staring straight ahead, focus back on his pre-assigned tasks; a mixed blessing. As much as Hux might want an explanation as to the day’s events, the only thing that could make things worse would be if Ren’s trickery became apparent to anyone, so it was probably for the best that he kept his mind on what he was supposed to be doing.

He held his temper

The rest of the ceremony continued without incident, though Hux remained frozen in place like a statue, hoping against hope that Kylo Ren would do no further damage to their cause.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There did not appear to be any repercussions for Kylo Ren’s little stunt on the platform.

The speeches and posturing before the media had continued as planned, and now they were being ferried to a meeting with the leadership and business council of Perithal, very much outside of the public eye.

Hux and Kylo shared one of the armoured speeders in a long cavalcade, and only Ren’s force nonsense allowed him to feel safe about occupying a non-First Order vehicle. The interior of the speeder was cushy and fashionable, designed to impress guests of high stature – dark blues and deep purples of the Perithal crest dyed onto luxuriously soft leather. The windows were completely blacked out, but there was enough warm lighting that it didn’t feel too dreary. He sat across from Ren on the plush seats, arms crossed and scowling, while Ren sat motionless, hands on his knees as though meditating.

He wanted to take this opportunity, while they were trapped in an enclosed space, to grill the so-called _Supreme Leader_ over whatever thought process had led to him thinking that _hugging_ the most powerful man on Perithal (and a few planets besides) was anything more than unjustifiably reckless, if not _insane_. If not for the high likelihood that the car was transmitting anything they said to Perithal’s security forces, he absolutely would.

“Glad to see Morduke again, were you?” He asked instead, glaring a hole through Ren’s empty head.

Ren sighed heavily. “I thought that you would be pleased with the development,” He huffed, shoulders slouched defensively.

Hux bit back the cruel laugh that nearly escaped him at that. “I had no idea that you were so close,” He said carefully.

“I don’t know the man, myself,” Ren confessed, and Hux’s vision flashed red as his stress levels skyrocketed.

Ren seemed aware of this, flinching even as his face twisted into a scowl. “It wasn’t-“

“It’s _funny_ ,” Hux hissed dangerously, cutting off whatever inadequate explanation Ren had. “Because I was operating under the assumption that the gesture you employed denoted _long-term friendship, familiarity,_ and _trust_. You might _recall_? As per the document provided on _appropriate conduct_?”

Ren bristled. “I was only-“

“Heavens, it isn’t as though there’s anything _riding_ on this,” He might have stopped caring about the possibility of being overheard in his criticism. “Gods only know what deep Bantha fodder we’d be in if the First Order considered this in any way important!”

He’d definitely said too much, but at least Ren was cowed, if the way that he suddenly refused to look at Hux was any indication. Hux was, absurdly, grateful for Ren’s quailing in the face of his ire; Ren had proven that he had few compunctions about physically asserting his new authority. Today, however, there were much greater enemies that he had laid Hux to out to be devoured by.

“You don’t-“

“No, Ren, _you_ don’t. I don’t want to hear another word from you about this, unless it’s to tell me that the First Order has suppressed all dissident activity, and order has been restored to the galaxy.” Hux threw his gaze out the blackened window, seeing only his own reflection, ghostly white and murderous.

Hux used the ensuing silence to try and strategise, pulling out his holopad and re-reading the reports on who was, or wasn’t, on his side in the upcoming meeting, highlighting anything that he thought might be relevant.

He’d thought Ren to have lapsed into whatever meditative state assisted him with his magic, until his voice intruded upon Hux’s work.

“He was an associate of Snoke’s.” Ren’s voice seemed quieter, somehow, as though he feared saying the name too loud might bring him back from beyond the grave.

Hux lowered his holopad, eyeing Ren critically. He had known that Morduke was a long-term supporter and patron of the First Order – it was necessary to know this, given than many of their financial dealings involved him or his subsidiaries, as well as his political clout and connections. “And?” He pressed, wondering if Ren even had a cogent point to make at all.

“… And Snoke is dead,” Ren said slowly, as though that was supposed to enlighten Hux as to his meaning.

“And what? You met the media baron at a funeral we have yet to hold?” He asked archly, tapping a gloved finger against his holopad in irritation.

“And I am now the Supreme Leader,” Ren corrected stiffly. “I hold the position _he_ once held. And, in accordance with your _appropriate conduct_ , I first greeted the man most familiar to my predecessor with a formal acknowledgment of the strong bond between our respective underlings. It’s supposed to be a demonstration that I will uphold the links and agreements held under Snoke, in an attempt to bring him closer to our-“

Hux had stopped listening, scrolling madly through the holo on Perithilian etiquette to confirm what he already knew to be true; Ren was _right_. He hadn’t even imagined using such a manoeuvre in this context… And who knew if it would be regarded positively by the powers-that-be on Perithal.

He found the relevant passage, reading it over and over as Ren blathered his explanation. How had Ren-?

Regardless, Ren’s little _plan_ was foolhardy and far too susceptible to blowing up in their collective faces. “Why didn’t you run this past me?” He demanded.

“… Are _you_ the Supreme Leader?” Ren challenged by way of response, and Hux felt his heart leap into his throat, fingers tightening around the edges of the holopad.

Ren’s brow furrowed, eyes flitting over Hux’s suddenly tense posture, before he seemed to come back to himself. “What’s wrong?” He asked, ever oblivious.

Hux swallowed, actively forcing his breathing to calm down. It wouldn’t do to hyperventilate; that was showing weakness. “Supreme Leader,” Hux began, tone as professional as he could manage, “The course that events take here are important for far more than just one planet. The _galaxy_ is watching. I would advise no gambling on plans that haven’t been…” _Don’t say ‘plans that haven’t been thought out’_ , “… Haven’t been run by the other relevant parties involved.”

Ren looked somehow both irritable and chastised. "I had thought that you would be glad I had done it.”

 _… And what in this star system made you think_ that _?_ Hux thought viciously. “I humbly request that you run ideas through me, Supreme Leader,” He said, sufficiently obsequiously.

“I’ve had dealings with…” Ren paused, searching for his words. “… _Business_ men before. Staking out deals, ensuring favourable transactions. Some of high stature, some lowly smugglers. All are much the same; one can get much further if one has the cooperation of the most powerful person in the room.”

Well, that was more reasonable an explanation than Hux had been willing to give him credit for. At least he wasn’t _completely_ unmoored from reality. “Of course, Supreme Leader. I only ask for prior notice,” He said. Whatever damage was done was done, the question now was how to proceed.

Ren’s face gave away nothing. He looked like his thoughts were far away, far outside of this speeder – which Hux supposed they were. He must have been back to focusing on his force-thing.

Deciding it safer to leave the matter lie, Hux went back to his reports on the elite Perithalians they were about to meet with. This gathering would decide how to proceed with the situation on Perithal, which he had to make his highest priority. There was a lot that could go wrong even _without_ Kylo Ren’s interference.

The trip was a short one, and Hux broke the tense silence between them to say, “We need to make a good impression, Ren. There is no room for mistakes here.”

Ren grunted an affirmative, though he looked unimpressed.

“And can I rely on you to allow _me_ do the talking?” Not that he’d be able to do anything if Ren decided to take it upon himself to make a scene.

Ren’s only response was to roll his eyes, before resuming the stiff, calm façade that Hux knew meant he was focusing again. This would have to do as Ren’s induction.

Arriving at the meeting involved a stroll past a few hand-selected media personnel, there specifically to present a favourable spin to the proceedings. Peace talks, they were calling it; though debate raged about this, with many calling the First Order’s arrival an invasion of a sovereign state. In the wake of the uprising of the populace, however, the elite of Perithal were running scared, and they were willing to turn to the considerable firepower of the First Order to quell it.

An attendant was quick to open their doors for them the moment that they rolled to a stop a few metres outside of the meeting place. The Supreme Leader and the General of the First Order were immediately accosted by the flashing of holo-recorders as they crossed the short distance from the speeder to the capitol building, though thankfully the media were cordoned off from them, a considerable distance away.  Nonetheless, there were doubtless the highest-definition images of their cohort being broadcast across the galaxy, trillions of onlookers catching a glimpse of the leadership of the First Order for the very first time.

Hux silently preened, glad that Ren’s powers allowed him to appear more put-together and rested than he would have looked without them. Ren might complain about the toll on him, but if Hux could safely make public appearances sans eye-bags and sickly pallor, then it was a price that Hux was willing to pay.

It was only once they had passed the giant archway and into the main reception hall, safe from the lenses of hawkish journalists, that they came upon the rest of their contingent. As per tradition, the most high-ranking figures arrived last, so the King would arrive shortly.

He wasn’t the person that they were particularly concerned with. The Monarchy was a largely ceremonial relic from an ancient era, observed more out of tradition than any real power. No, the true players were the owners of capital, and those who controlled the _ports_ in particular; but also those who sat at the head of industries across the galaxy, and found Perithal – the juncture of a significant portion of galactic trade – a convenient home. If they could be convinced of Hux’s strategy to try and throw water on the raging fire of Perithal’s workers, then the first major hurdle would be overcome.

A glance around the room told him that Mitaka had been busy, assigning several officers who were loyal to him to chat up key individuals on the business council. However, there were other first order officers, including Peavey himself, whom he was certain were having very different discussions.

He took up his holopad, making sure to message Mitaka to assign someone to eavesdrop on the conversations on those most likely to be troublesome.

Hux himself, however, had a few people on his own list to chat up. First on that list, by necessity, was Morduke; the stunt on the platform wasn’t something that could be easily ignored.

“Esteemed host,” Hux said with a slight incline of his head.

“Honoured guest,” The ancient creature responded warmly, tilting his head in turn. “Old friend,” He added to the Supreme Leader. “I was delighted to receive such enthusiastic confirmation that the First Order would honour our existing arrangements.”

“Old friend,” Ren said smoothly. “Of course. We are not one to push aside our closest collaborators on account of mere internal developments.”

Hux realised that he was holding his breath as Ren spoke, and quickly corrected himself. _He’s not as inept at diplomacy as I had assumed_ , he tried to reassure himself.

“I am glad to hear it. There was much talk of the hot-headedness of the new leadership, and I admit that I had my doubts,” Morduke went on, jowls swinging as he spoke.

Hux wondered where exactly he’d heard that, but it would be unbecoming to ask that here. “The First Order operates the same way that it always has,” Hux assured him. “The chaos of the Republic lies in the past, and the future is bright, thanks to the contributions of esteemed individuals such as yourself. Such things are not soon forgotten, or without reward.”

Morduke turned an assessing eye on Hux. “Getting here has been one thing. What can the First Order offer to quell the unrest here on Perithal that you have caused by coming here? I may want to bring _order_ to the galaxy, but what of my own home? Hmm?”

“I propose a strategy of weakening their movement through co-opting their own leadership, leaving them weak and isolated enough to strike,” Hux said immediately, conviction shining through each word. “We have already made arrangements through the Trade Union Federation-“

“- Bunch of thieving rats,” Morduke hissed, visibily repulsed.

“Quite,” Hux said with a wry smile. “But why _fight_ off a swarm of rats, when you can lead them off of a cliff? Draw their leaders into the fold, and have them oversee their own demise.”

“I take it this is in reference to your proposal?” The wizened alien looked unimpressed. “This is not my first uprising of the rabble, young human, and a few orbital strikes have never been unable to deter their lot before.”

Hux graciously didn’t comment on the epithet. “You have, no doubt, seen, and _crushed_ , many movements in your centuries on Perithal. But can you really say that you’ve seen a movement so deeply rooted, so widespread?” He challenged.

Morduke wasn’t one who took challenges lightly. “Do you question my authority on the matter?” He demanded.

“I would _never_ ,” Hux was warily unctuous. “I would only point to history of Perithal, with which I assume you are familiar; '755 C.R.C, when the Perithalian factories were seized by radicals and all hope seemed lost. Was it not the cooperation of the Perithalian Trade Union leadership that secured the victory, where blasters could not?”

“I was _there_ , I’ll have you know,” The alien sibilated, eyes narrow. “… What do _you_ know of the event that _I_ do not?”

“You knowledge of the past and the means of suppression are vast, which is why I humbly _remind_ you of this altercation,” Hux diplomatically implored. “I would like to blast these obstinate creatures as much as the next man, but first we must ensure that to do so would not incite the rest of scum to rise to the surface in retaliation. Divide, _then_ conquer.”

Morduke paused, which Hux knew meant he had won. Ren remained passive and silent, just as he had hoped he would.

“… Your plan is reasonable,” Morduke admitted, which was no small feat for a creature who didn’t take lightly to being questioned. “Though I suspect that Perithal is already decided in its course of action.”

… _What_? What did _that_ mean? Hux glanced at Ren, as though he could use his magic to discern the cryptic statement, though he was clearly caught up in his _other_ magical responsibilities, if the glassy eyes were anything to go by.

“Nonetheless, you have been more prepared and impressive that I had given you credit. Your detractors have not given me a correct assessment of you.”

That was the highest possible endorsement from a creature such as this, but all the statement did was leave him with more questions; what _detractors_? Just what _was_ it that the council had already decided? With _whom_? Was this _Peavey’s_ doing-?

A gong sounded, the sound reverberating through Hux, sending a jolt of alarm through him not only from the abruptness and unexpectedness of it, but from the realisation of what it entailed… There was supposed to be more time! To converse with the room, to

“Ah, the meeting is to begin,” Morduke said, voice suddenly amiable. “Let us go in, shall we?”

Hux was quick to jump back into action. “Let us accompany you. Might you enlighten us as to who was besmirched our good name? These _detractors_ of ours must surely be mistaken, and it would be remiss of me not to _correct_ them.”

“Nonsense,” Morduke waved a hand dismissively. “All will become clear in good time.” He flashed them a smile, presumably meant to be reassuring, rows of small, triangular teeth visible behind his wrinkled lips.

Those words did not inspire confidence in Hux, but they could do little more than follow him into the meeting of the council, hoping that whatever _course of action_ they had chosen would become clear.

 

* * *

 

 

The meeting had concluded with remarkably little fuss. _Too_ little fuss, given the contention supposedly in the room.

Hux had been madly scrolling through Mitaka’s reports, and bless the Lieutenant for his thorough cataloguing of each and attendees’ views, having only five loyal officers to do the leg work. Where did this network of his spring from? How many among the rest of the _Finalizer’s_ crew were with Mitaka? How many on the First Order’s _other_ ships did he hold sway with?

This was not the time to question the roots which Mitaka had laid. Hux, having lost many of his most loyal with the obliteration of the Supremacy, had little choice but to turn to the Lieutenant’s connections.

The reports included not only the various attendees views, but which of them had been targeted by officers whom he suspected were closer to Peavey’s little _faction_. The conclusion was dire; the rulers were panicking, tails between their legs, desperate for the First Order’s storm troopers to simply seize each and every factory by force, and hold mass executions of workers to put them back in their place.

Hux wanted the same thing; there were simply more steps in between.

The rulers of Perithal, it seemed, were not so patient.

So when Hux had outlined his proposal to the room, he was surprised when it passed with little discussion or controversy. Every report that he had indicated that it had been the opposite. Further, the room heartily agreed to a press conference in the immediate aftermath of the meeting as a vital first step in establishing the new elections to the public.

The meeting had concluded, with Hux feeling very much flummoxed. They were still in the capitol building, surrounded on all sides by the wealthiest Perithal had to offer. They seemed in a celebratory mood, having been brought crystal flutes of wine. He knew better than to try and grab one. He sidled close to Ren as they made their way out into the atrium, beseeching him, “Can’t you tell me what these duplicitous bastards are thinking?”

Ren had been walking rigidly, his eyes closed, but he deigned to peer through one eye, looking down at Hux. “We are very far away,” He said tonelessly.

He had known that Ren was a very frustrating man to deal with. He had to keep remembering that so as not slash at him with his concealed blade; it wouldn’t do anything, anyway. “The entirety of the reason I bought you here was so that you could mind-read for me- _us_. For us.”

Even through his mostly-closed eyelids, Hux could see Ren’s eyes roll. “You wanted ‘ _mind-reading_ ’ and _protection_. Correct? You’re certainly _safe_.”

“Can’t you get an _idea_ of whatever it is they’re plotting?!” Hux hissed, perhaps too loudly – he glanced around, but there seemed to be little attention paid to them as everyone filtered out back to their transports to the area where the announcement would be made to the public.

The put-upon sigh seemed a little over the top, but at least Hux assumed that meant that Ren was acquiescing. “… They’re gloating. Anticipating something.”

“No, _really_?” Hux snapped as they got into their speeder, the outside of the building pleasingly absent of press. He slid into his seat, “What else can you tell me? That they’re _monied_?”

“I don’t trust them,” Ren added, as though he thought he was being helpful.

“Well, at least you’ve been paying _some_ attention,” He huffed as their speeder pulled away.

They sat in silence as they were whisked away to the front of the capitol building’s estate, where fantastic gardens filled with exotic plants from every planet along the Hydian Way and Corellian Run. There was a stage that had been erected in the middle of a particularly beautiful part of the garden, directly in front of a mountain of flowering shrubs that were, no doubt, spilling sweet-smelling pollen into the air. Blossoms of all of the colours on the spectrum graced delicate stems, and intricately woven through white trellises were vibrantly coloured vines, the entire area further ensconced by tall shrubs, immaculately pruned into rolling pink waves. It was all lit by a series of spotlights which were lighting the stage, casting a warm, yellow glow over the entire scene. It looked positively cheery.

Each transport queued at the base of the platform to drop off its passengers at the stairs leading to it, though only a select few were to be present for this announcement. Hux and the Supreme Leader were to be the poster boys for the change, which sat very wrong with Hux. If the capitalists didn’t really want this plan to go forward, why were they broadcasting this at all? Why allow things to go this far? Were they willing to try it after all? Hux felt like he was missing vital information, and it left him on edge.

To increase Hux’s frustrations, Mitaka sent him a very apologetic report explaining that he couldn’t attend the press conference on account of having been rushed away with breathing difficulties; an unfortunately discovered pollen allergy had him being sent for medical treatment, and he would miss the broadcast entirely. One less ally amid a den of vipers.

Hux and Ren were the last to be sent to the platform, and there were already crews of holo-broadcasters set up to beam the announcement across the planet. There was a neat line of First Order officers, all of insignificant rank, a few troopers, and a coterie of middling senators.

There was a notable _absence_ of several of the key players that one might expect. It was the first thing that Hux asked about when one of the diplomats from the King’s court – a short and wiry Twi’lek - approached them to instruct them where to stand.

“Where is the King? Will he not be part of the broadcast?” Hux demanded of him.

“He _is_ , sir, but from within the tower of his temple; it’s where he _traditionally_ gives his speeches to the people,” Was the explanation. “We chose the Floral section of the Botanical Gardens for this event _specifically_ to soften the image of the First Order. Would you so kindly take your place on the marker at the front of the stage?”

Hux did so, Ren coming to stand beside him rather than in front. Once again, the symbolism of the gesture must have been lost on him.

There was a small holo projector on the stage in front of them, so that they could see the glowing visage of King Marine Letërte, surrounded by busts of past monarchs in a cheerily lit room as he gave his announcement that he had heard the people’s concerns, and that there was nothing to fear. The words of the speech matched perfectly the draft that had been sent to all of the attendees of the meeting. Every inflection was carefully calculated to engender calm resolve and dignity.

“You’ll be live in fifteen seconds,” The Twi’lek said, eyes glued to his portable terminal. Hux saw slivers of his exposed skin pimpling into goose-bumps, and assumed that it must have been quite cold out here in the cool evening air.

He watched the little figure of the King come to the conclusion of his speech, ears ringing with the palpable tension. Ren shifted next to him, and Hux subtly hit him with his elbow.

“What?” Ren hissed.

“Don’t fidget,” Hux admonished. “Now is hardly the time.”

“… Something isn’t right,” Ren said, eyes darting around the scene. “I can sense something.”

Hux had no time to ask what Ren was talking about, as the Twi’lek interrupted their hushed conversation, “Live in three… Two… One!”

Hux recited the speech that had been agreed upon at the meeting. “Perithal, behold the new Supreme Leader of the First Order, Kylo Ren. I am General Hux. The First Order greets you warmly. We have been in talks with your leadership over the situation regarding the dissolution of the Republic, and the rise of _Order_ within the galaxy. This is not an invasion; it is an opportunity. An opportunity for Perithal to hold pride of place amongst the new, superior system of governance, to be a leading power in the reshaping our collective star systems for the greater good of all people, and for a better and brighter future for all.

“The First Order holds Perithal in the highest esteem, and has no intention of asserting its authority over this sovereign planet. Rather, we hope to work together to achieve mutually beneficial ends, hand in hand. In the daily lives of Perithalians, very little will change; children will still attend their schools, cultural celebrations will still be observed, laws will remain the same. The First Order is not here to take. It is here to _partner_ with you. Given the history of the Republic’s corruption and mismanagement, it is hardly a surprise that you would be wary of this development.

“In light of the change in circumstances, there are to be elections held, so that the people of Perithal know that they have the final say in all changes going forward. Though of course, we must first end the terror and chaos, so that the people may be free to vote, and let their voice by heard. We must have an _end_ to the violence…” He paused for effect, and that was when it happened.

He heard the whine of a charging blaster, and immediately two troopers rushed forward to shield him – only for the red bolt of light to stop in mid-air, still singing with charge, an atonal hum of plasma energy suspended as though… As though…

Ren’s hand was raised towards the bolt, which had been aimed at Hux’s head. He could see it, only two feet away from this face.

Three of the troopers had leapt from the stage, and were tackling the shooter (a human technician operating a holo recorder) to the ground.

Hux’s heart raced, even as he tried to control his breathing, knowing that nothing could hurt him-

An explosion. Engulfing the stage in flames, tearing apart the senators and troopers and technicians and diplomats, scattering limbs, dirt, and torched technical equipment indiscriminately, and burning away the rare botanical specimens in a ball of flame.

Hux’s ears were immediately deafened so much so that he couldn’t hear his own screams, but he stayed precisely where he was, falling against Ren’s side, holding onto him like a lifeline.

Ren stood on the segment of stage that remained safe within a circular radius around himself and Hux, Ren’s arms outstretched as though he were holding the explosion at bay with his hands. And, indeed, he must have been; the only section of the stage that was untouched was the small area that they had been standing on. No blood, or smoke, or carnage had touched either of them; Ren had used some spell to create a bubble of undisturbed air around them.

One look at Ren told him that the strain was enormous, the man looking haggard, muttering, “I can do this no longer.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 Hux felt like he was being crushed, and for a moment, he feared that he was far below his ship on that pile of dirt, being torn to shreds by the explosion-

But no, he was surrounded by the comfort of his own bed, at last able to see through his own eyes. There wasn’t much to see, however, as the Supreme Leader was crushing Hux against his chest, his thick arms wrapped tight around Hux to pin him in place.

Coming back to his own, real, _flesh-and-blood_ felt like falling from a great height and landing in a net; he was reeling, trying to process not only the end to their ‘force projecting’ journey, but also the ramifications of what was, clearly, an attempt on his life. He could feel panic clawing up his throat, tightening his airways, at the thought of how terrible this would be for the plan to deal with Perithal, let alone how this would affect the First Order’s standing in the wider galaxy, and the dozens of other planets they were vying to control.

 _There’s no time to dwell on it. Focus on the next task, as always_ , he thought to himself. He forced his mind to put aside the fear of all that could go – and _had_ gone - wrong, and concentrate on the most viable paths out of this mess; preferably something immediately actionable.

Now he would have to organise to have Mitaka extracted, if he wasn’t already dead, and intervene in the wake of the attack to tell all the relevant actors that he was very much alive, as well as figure out how many (and which) members of the Business Council were privy to and/or involved in the plot, and he suspected Peavey was involved, and who knew? Maybe Mitaka? How _convenient_ , to have an allergic reaction…

The point was, there was suddenly a great deal that Hux needed to do, and an extremely limited time in which to do it. The very first step would be to get Ren to free Hux from his suffocating embrace.

“… _Ren_ ,” Hux said, muffled though it was by Ren’s bulk. “… Let me go.”

Ren, ever a nuisance, did the exact _opposite_ and gripped him tighter. Trapped as he was, Hux couldn’t see his face, so he hadn’t a clue what the Supreme Leader was thinking. He opted to grit his teeth and endure this bizarre treatment, silently hoping that he wasn’t about to be punished for the disaster planet-side.

That being said, it didn’t seem like Ren was attempting to hurt him. Despite the crushing grip, Ren seemed to just want to… Hold him. His body was damp with sweat, which corroborated Ren’s story that ‘ _force projection’_ was something that took a significant physical toll. Hux thought his laboured breath was also an indication, until he realised that Ren’s breath was hitching as though on the verge of tears.

“… Ren?” He asked quietly.

“They tried to kill you,” Ren snivelled, and Hux was careful not to sneer back an ‘ _I told you so’_ , as deserved as that might be. “I’ll _destroy_ them!”

Hux wiggled _just_ free enough to catch a glimpse of Ren’s deranged visage, half shrouded by his dark hair, eyes wide and looking utterly _unhinged_.

Hux wasn’t sure how to respond, if there was a way that he could without inviting some terrible fate upon himself. He ought to be considering the myriad ways that this assassination attempt had impacted their attempts to broker a deal with Perithal’s most powerful, or the distinct possibility that one of his own men was behind the plot.

But all he could focus on was the madness burning in Ren’s eyes, and the horrid certainty that it would be shortly directed at himself.

“What would have become of Anneke’s fragile mind, to have the connection between the two of you severed so abruptly and permanently?!” Ren cried, clutching Hux against his chest. “To have half of her torn out after she’s grown to feel so deeply for you… What if she didn’t _survive_ it?”

… Hux’s mind was racing. Ren was losing his mind _because_ _someone had tried to murder Hux_. Ren had – admittedly foolishly – stopped an explosion _mid-blast_ to prevent Hux from coming to harm.

 _Ren associated Hux’s survival with Anneke’s_. Not only was Ren’s ire directed at someone else, but Hux was perfectly positioned to use Ren’s attachment to their child to ensure that he had a stable, loyal ally. (… Though stable probably wasn’t the right word).

An ally who could stop blaster bolts in mid-air, could stop explosions harming him with a single thought, who could project their consciousness across thousands of kilometres to ensure that no harm would befall Hux. No wonder the Empire had relied so much on force users. He was starting to see the appeal of a personal bodyguard who could bend the very fabric of the galaxy to his will.

These thoughts were spinning in Hux’s mind, a whirlwind of possibility, while he remained trapped enduring Ren’s stifling embrace. Ren, too, seemed deep in thought. What could he be thinking… ?

“My grandfather was separated from his mother, and he could feel her suffering from across the galaxy.”

Ah, of course. A soliloquy about Ren’s lineage. Hux ought to have predicted it.

“He felt every second of her torture and death, even across entire star systems,” Ren spoke as though in a trance, almost as though reliving a memory. “And his wife died as she was giving birth, cutting off his children from her from the very moment they were born.”

Hux remained silent and listened, too concerned with self-preservation to ask for clarification.

Ren ploughed on regardless Hux’s lost expression.

“And then Snoke deliberately broke my connection to my mother, leaving me open to manipulation,” The way he spat the words made it clear how bitter he was, still, over that fact.

“I will break the cycle. They will _never_ take Anneke’s mother from her,” Ren vowed, pulling Hux to him once again, holding the back of Hux’s head so that it was nestled against Ren’s neck.

Ah. So _that_ was it. Ren was feeling… _Protective_.

Ren suddenly pulled back, taking Hux’s chin in his hand and staring directly into his eyes. “For as long as I breathe,” He whispered fervently, a solemn and zealous covenant, “I will keep you from harm, and bring _ruin_ to _any_ who would defy us.”

Hux stared back into his eyes, mind ticking over the implications of this development, practically giddy with a sudden rush of power. He smiled, closing the distance between them and kissing Ren on the lips. He could feel how Ren held his breath through the moment, some kind of energy heightening and dancing between their bodies like electricity through a circuit. Ren melted against him, and Hux only felt even more emboldened, deepening the kiss, feeling the air sing with promise between them.

As they pulled apart, Hux whispered to him, “I will hold you to that.” And he _would_ ; now, more than ever, he required personal protection.

“You won’t need to,” Ren assured him. “I would die before I would let anyone hurt Anneke that way.”

Reality seeped back into their consciousness as the Nan-E droid trundled into the room, a wailing Anneke in its arms. “She is lonely,” It announced succinctly. “Have you concluded your vital meeting? If so, it is advisable to hold her.”

“You rest,” Kylo said, and pressed a light kiss to Hux’s forehead before (shakily) pushing himself up to heed Anneke’s cries. His movements seemed laboured, likely owing to the effort of projecting the both of them onto Perithal.

While Ren attended to Anneke, Hux pondered his next move.

So someone had tried to assassinate him. Only him? Or had all of the First Order’s leadership been targeted? Was it a ploy by Peavey and his gang, or some other, as-yet-unknown actor within their ranks? Was it a cabal of Perithal’s elite, determined to follow through with the immediate recapture of the planet through brute force? Was it some despicable organisation of the lower classes, bent on ripping off the head of the invading forces?

The planet below them must have been in utter chaos. There was much that he would need to be updated on, and even now it was likely that news of his “death” would be doing the rounds around the galaxy, which would hardly be a stabilising factor in this entire debacle.

For now, the only thing that he seemed to have under control was Ren, besotted as he was with Anneke, cooing at the tiny babe in his arms, even as she wailed. He watched the pair from the bed, before waving at Med-X5 to bring him a replacement holopad so he could begin to make headway into the changing situation. The droid rushed to comply, and Hux was soon sending a message to Mitaka, “ _Lay low; explosion at conference. Still alive, safe. Trust no one_.”

Only moments later, Mitaka responded, “ _Understood. Retreated out of hot zone. Rendevous?_ ”

“ _Negative. Return to Finalizer; sending shuttle to attached coordinates_.” One task done, at least.

His eyes fell back to Ren, cradling Anneke in his arms, a feeding her a bottle of the milk that had been expressed before they started their force-extension _thing_. Anneke had stopped screaming, and was looking at Ren’s face while she fed, to Ren’s absolute delight.

Ren had apparently linked Anneke’s wellbeing to Hux’s. A man who could stop blaster bolts in mid-air with his mind, who could stop an explosion with a thought, who could read minds and telepathically transport him onto a planet from orbit, had decided that it was his first priority to keep Hux alive.

He smiled. Peavey and his ilk wouldn’t know what hit them.

**Author's Note:**

> I will read and try to respond to all comments ✌
> 
> In in this fic for the long haul 〆(ಥ﹏ಥ) Bear with me, friends, we're in for a wild ride.


End file.
